《Dreams of Sun》


 Chapter one.

    She waited for the signal, drifting in the twilight sky, unsupported and invisible. Next to her a vertical beam of light pulsed from the apex of the black pyramid and dissolved in the darkening skies. The city was a sprawling, shimmering ocean beneath her feet. She looked towards the desert and the distant mountains. She waited, she watched, slowly circling, taking in the sunset, and savouring the warm breeze. Beneath her feet, points of light pulsed, flashing with epileptic intensity. The shining metropolis came alive at night, the constant rumbling noise of the city was punctuated by sirens, hooting vehicles, and screaming humans. She listened, but could not distinguish whether the screams were from pain or pleasure.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± said a voice in her ear. She sighed, turned, and floated across the city.


    She flew towards the purpling mountains, upright and with her hands clasped loosely together as if in prayer. Fingertips touching, manipulating the suit. The desert passed smoothly below as the air grew colder. She reached the tree tops and let them caress the soles of her feet before gradually gaining altitude. The hotel was built on top of a towering carbonate cliff face, shaped like a massive horseshoe. Ten stories high and a kilometre wide, the two ends jutted out over the canyon as if it had been thrown from above and landed on its side, perfectly balanced on the edge. Approaching from below, she floated up the cliff face in between the imposing arches, until reaching a point in the air above the gleaming structure. She stopped and surveyed the scene.


    There was a solitary nighthawk swooping in towards her, chasing insects in the swirling updraft. It flew closer and she wondered if the hawk would detect her presence in the suit. Just as she was about to take evasive action, the hawk sensed her, screeched, batted its wings in confusion and tore off down towards the cliff face. She smiled; she was invisible to the human eye, but not the keen-eyed hawk.


    ¡°Ava, the security are changing shift,¡± said the earbud.


    She stroked a small pressure pad in her palm, and floated over the bulbous middle section of the horseshoe down to ground level, landing gracefully next to a service entrance the security guards had momentarily vacated. She could have walked through the main entrance of the hotel. But although she was invisible, she was still a solid physical being and there were plenty of people in the main foyer to bump into. She followed the guards through their checkpoint and slipped through an open door into a long wide corridor.


    The walkway curved with the shape of the building. Its plush interior was adorned with depictions of desert scenes and mountain landscapes. Pots of cacti and succulents had been placed strategically along the path. There was plenty of room for her to avoid people. The lower levels of the hotel were all casino but at both ends of the horseshoe were the exclusive VIP areas with the best views. Ava headed for a private room, reserved for the elite high rollers, away from the drunks and desperate.


    She approached the end of the corridor, where a burly security guard stood next to a door: Blue Diamond Room announced the plaque. The door was closed. The security guard was solid muscle, hired to stand around looking staunch, and prevent drunk patrons from annoying the people inside. She padded up to the guard. He stood statue still, a single vein pulsing in his neck showing he was alive. She noticed his eyes flickering behind the shaded AR glasses. Whatever alternate reality the guard was running must have been very captivating. Ava wondered whether she should reach into his mind to distract him. Easily done but there was no need.


    She walked back down the corridor to the giant cactus in a clay pot. Bracing one leg on the rim of the pot, she glanced at the guard and kicked it over. The guard immediately snapped out of his virtual world and strode over to the mess on the floor, he looked around in confusion as she went to the door and held her palm to the keypad. Good luck getting the thorny devil back in the pot, she thought as the light clicked green and she stepped inside.


    She walked silently through the antechamber, past the reception and into the Blue Diamond room. Five people were reclining around a low table covered with bottles, food items and white lines of what she assumed was cocaine.


    ¡°Ignore the press, Clifford. they will do anything for a story, spying on people is their business. I¡¯m sure you can bribe the editors to change the narrative if it gets too uncomfortable,¡± said Xander Cruz.


    ¡°I already pay them more than enough. I can¡¯t have junior reporters trying to make a name for themselves by sniffing around in my private affairs.¡± Baron Clifford of Chudleigh looked down his nose and peeled a grape with long thin fingers as he spoke.


    ¡°Well, you should be more discreet. Your scandalous behaviour sells newspapers.¡± Xander smiled, showing perfect white teeth.


    ¡°You should be glad it¡¯s just your deviant appetites they are interested in and not your drug companies, we don¡¯t want any investigations there.¡± Liu Wei guzzled a flute of champagne and spooned foie gras onto a cracker. ¡°You are far too lenient in your country, if any journalist runs a story I don¡¯t like, they disappear.¡±


    ¡°I would love to be able to do that. There are several reporters I would like to disappear, slowly and painfully as possible, and we have tried. But unfortunately, where I come from, if a journalist disappears, that¡¯s an even bigger story,¡± said Clifford.


    ¡°Then let them be distracted by your carnal cravings, as long as they don¡¯t go digging deeper into your pharmaceuticals. That would be bad for all of us,¡± said Wei.


    The invisible woman padded silently around the table and studied each one of them. She knew these people; she had researched them. They¡¯d been easy to find, and she didn¡¯t have to dig deep to discover their stories. They were rich, corrupt, devious, maybe even evil. Maybe it was an addiction, or an affliction. Maybe they needed help. Well, she was going to help them.


    ¡°The people don¡¯t care about privacy anymore,¡± said Wei. ¡°We have facial recognition cameras on the streets, in the shops, and in their homes. We rate everyone on their behaviour whether it¡¯s driving, shopping, or fucking. The rating affects their credit, their career and social life. They¡¯re cattle, they know they are being watched and they don¡¯t care, they are always trying to achieve a higher rating. It¡¯s the new normal and if anyone criticizes the surveillance state, like I said, they disappear.¡±


    ¡°We are a little more subtle. We have not sunk so low as selling live streams of people fornicating on pay-per-view. We are only interested in the data,¡± said Clifford.


    ¡°Yep, the data is where the money is,¡± said Xander as he bent down towards a line of white powder on the table. ¡°Data gives every detail; life is nothing more than a collection of big data.¡± The tech tycoon looked different from the last image she had seen. His cheekbones were higher, and his eyes were wider. Xander had a severe body dysmorphic disorder that constantly drove him back to the plastic surgeon, trying to achieve a perfection he could never seem to attain. Now his face barely moved at all. Ava was disgusted and slightly saddened by his obsessive vanity.


    ¡°But there is a ton of money to be made from my pay-per-view,¡± said Wei. ¡°People are so desensitized to surveillance they don¡¯t care who¡¯s watching.¡±


    ¡°We all know your spy-cams make money, Wei, but the market of perverts and voyeurs is limited. Selling data is way more profitable and less problematic. Governments and marketing agencies are always willing to pay for details about the people.¡± Adira Amar cradled a flute of champagne. Adira owned a global online marketplace, making her one of the richest people in the world. The brutally oppressive treatment of her workers and the systematic kneecapping of her opposition was well known. Ava studied her, wondering how so much greed could be contained in one small woman.


    ¡°We have hundreds of smart devices for harvesting personal data. Toys for the children, toasters, toothbrushes, refrigerators, even sex toys will get you into their homes and into their heads without them knowing. People happily buy our products, and we harvest masses of quality data.¡± Adira took a sip of champagne, looked at the flute in disgust and tossed it into the pool.


    Ava moved around the group. After researching all of them she felt like she knew them personally. They were in the top one percent of wealthiest people in the world, and worked hard to keep the inequality differential growing. Being this close, she could visit their minds without them knowing. She could smell their thoughts like a bubbling sulphuric swamp. She didn¡¯t want to understand them, she felt dirty and corrupted just by being in the same room as these people. Her right hand went to the bomb strapped to her belt, but she decided not to use it yet. She wanted to eavesdrop a little longer.


    ¡°This is nothing new Adira, your traditional methods still work but people are evolving, the future is here already.¡± Xander stroked the matte black augmentation plugged into his head behind his ear. ¡°My new enhancement aug can link with any individual or network with the same hardware and convey to my primary visual cortex. It can transmit and receive gigabytes in seconds. Everyone will be using them soon for communication, shopping, business, and the gaming potential is unlimited. Once everyone is auged up, we will not only know exactly what they are doing, we will know what they are thinking.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t people get angry when they find out you are recording their thoughts?¡± Clifford spat a grape pip to the floor.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Xander flapped his hand at him dismissively. ¡°They get angry about losing something they never had. But they never disconnect. People say they value their privacy, but our statistics say otherwise. Their devices are connected all the time, they constantly crave attention and approval. There is no such thing as privacy anymore, it¡¯s a myth.¡±


    Ava crouched next to the pool the Blue Diamond room was named after. The hotel extended out over the cliff face and built into the outlying extremity of the giant horseshoe was a glass bottom pool. The transparent walls of the pool curved up above the water line affording panoramic views out over the valley and straight down through the water to the desert floor below. Adira¡¯s champagne flute stood upright on the bottom. She studied the kaleidoscopic lights of Las Vegas, a distant glowing mirage shifting in the warm evening air. The water was an azure blue and there were real diamonds in the pool, caressed bythe circulating water around the bottom. The tiny gemstones were picked out by the last rays of the setting Sun creating laser like shafts of blue light in the water. Ava looked out at the sunset. It was beautiful, but the Sun always made her feel anxious. She preferred the night.


    ¡°Anyway, how is the next virus coming along Wei?¡± asked Clifford.


    ¡°It¡¯s incubating nicely in some pigs at the moment. Soon it will mutate into a deadlier version of the swine flu. We are thinking of introducing it from Europe this time. Plenty of factory farms and a growing population of wild pigs.¡±


    ¡°Well, let me know when it¡¯s ready and we can start rolling out the vaccines again. The last pandemic went well.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, the Lassa fever scared the shit out of people, not a pleasant way to die.¡±


    Ava¡¯s invisible face twisted with shock and disgust; she understood Clifford¡¯s drug company had made billions in profit selling vaccines for the last pandemic but actually manufacturing a deadly virus? She had heard rumours but had dismissed them as conspiracy theories. Something caustic writhed in her stomach. These people made her sick.


    ¡°We are thinking of adding some addictive properties this time,¡± said Clifford. ¡°We want them to come back for more.¡±


    Ava watched the last member of the group sitting on his own in silence. Johnathon Winter was a political adviser, although he was not well known, he had immense political influence. She knew he promoted extreme right-wing ideologies. She didn¡¯t know whether he did this only for profit, or he actually believed the vile rhetoric. He was the one she wanted most. Winter rose from his seat and stood gazing through the water at the view below. ¡°There is an election to win soon, and it would be in all your best interests if my employer remains in power for another term, so how are we going to achieve this?¡±


    ¡°Same as we always do.¡± Adira inspected another bottle of champagne. ¡°You know our methods, digging dirt on opponents, bombarding voters with propaganda and fixing the votes.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re in a unique position this time,¡± said Xander. ¡°Despite the fact you and that idiot you work for made a complete shambles of your last term, you won¡¯t lose. Many of your opposition¡¯s supporters are dead, all those blue-collar workers who got infected. But those with enough money avoided the fever easily enough, and the fear it created will always be good for conservative politics.¡±


    ¡°Disasters are an important part of our capitalist society, whether they are military, environmental or financial, you can never let a good disaster go to waste.¡± Wei smiled showing his gold capped teeth.


    ¡°We are one step ahead of every disaster. We have the cure ready before the disease is unleashed. We can create the conditions that we benefit most from. This is the most efficient business model.¡± said Clifford.


    ¡°Must be nice to have all the governments of the world indebted and relying on you for a cure,¡± said Xander distractedly as he spilled some cocaine on the floor. ¡°It¡¯s true the pandemic was great for business, everyone at home in lockdown with nothing better to do but use our apps to communicate and buy shit online. Not only more profit but a treasure trove of personal data.¡±


    Winter took a flute of champagne and joined them at the table. ¡°Since the pandemic, your tech companies have a much-improved image, your involvement in tracking the fever produced tangible results. More importantly, your status as faithful government partners in the biggest health crisis the modern world has ever seen contributed to the acceptance and normalization of your existence.¡± Winter paused to sneer disdainfully at Xander scooping up the cocaine. ¡°During the pandemic, the conditions were perfect for some shock doctrine. Easy to suspend democratic freedoms, to tell the people extraordinary politics were needed to win this war and take more money from the taxpayers. The immediate aftermath was the perfect time to ram some pro-corporate measures down their throats. That¡¯s what my government has done for you, you are in the best position you have ever been, and it¡¯s time to show some appreciation.¡±


    ¡°Yes, we will win the election for you,¡± sighed Xander as he built a small mound of cocaine on the table and went to work with a card. ¡°Easy enough to turn uninformed voters into misinformed ones, that¡¯s how democracy works these days. Clifford I¡¯m still annoyed you didn¡¯t put nano chips in the vaccine. Perfect way to track the population.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we did,¡± said Clifford with a raised eyebrow.


    Winter ignored them. ¡°There are concerns, we all agree the last pandemic was good for business. But it took my organisation by surprise, and we don¡¯t like surprises.¡± He looked indignantly at Wei.


    Wei closed his eyes for a moment before shrugging. ¡°Must have slipped my mind. Anyway, it¡¯s not my fault you weren¡¯t prepared. You have learned a good lesson.¡±


    Winter began to retort but managed to regain his poise. ¡°Regardless,¡± he downed his champagne. ¡°The voters are confused; polls indicate our leader is not as popular as we would like. We need to present him in a more favourable light. The lockdown went on far too long, people got used to fresh air, breathing air without exhaust fumes, people got ideas of a different kind of world. We can¡¯t have that. Our marginal voters are swinging, and so we need your influence to guarantee an election victory. For our mutual benefit. Things don¡¯t necessarily need to be true, as long as they¡¯re believed.¡±


    ¡°Your leader is an imbecile, and his supporters are morons. If he could just keep his mouth shut his popularity will grow,¡± said Adira. ¡°He¡¯s just a puppet, but this is what we do. We win elections all around the world in exchange for favourable trading conditions, we have done so for decades. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re worried about Winter. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re even doing here, an email from your office would have sufficed.¡±


    Winter looked evenly back at Adira, ¡°I wanted to impress upon you the gravity of the situation, remind you of the considerable benefits you have attained as a result of my organisation being in power, and remind you of what you could lose.¡±


    ¡°Fucking politicians,¡± muttered Adira shaking her head. ¡°Just remember your place boy, you, and your idiot boss work for us, we are the ones pulling the strings. Of course, we will make sure the fool you work for gets another four years but only because it suits us. We could just as easily support the limp wristed bunch of lefties in opposition if the price was right.¡±


    ¡°Fixing elections is easy; people have been doing it for decades. Did you know, a long time ago in Poland, voters in opposition areas were given pens filled with disappearing ink. When officials went to count the ballots, they just found a bunch of blanks,¡± laughed Wei.


    ¡°This is all insignificant,¡± said Xander. ¡°Trivial concerns. Governments will come and go. We are the ones with real power. We should be planning for our future, harnessing this technology at our fingertips. Once everyone has my aug installed,¡± Xander clumsily detached the aug and held it up to show them. ¡°We can upgrade it without them knowing, we can input images and information directly into their heads. We won¡¯t need data harvesting hardware, we can tell them what to buy, we can tell them what to think.¡±


    Ava stood up from her position next to the pool. She had been staring through the waters at the distorted view of the desert floor below while listening to this conversation. Their words made her stomach churn, she knew what these people had done and what they intended to do, but actually hearing it was sickening. She wondered how it would look if she vomited on the floor. She padded to where Xander was standing and examined the point behind his ear where he had removed the aug. There was a narrow jack point with silver conductors just below the hairline, it looked red and raw around the edges. She winced as Xander fumbled with his aug, trying to force it back into the socket in his head before he bent down and hoovered up another line of cocaine.


    ¡°We are at a certain level now, and that level is profitable for all of us. But to get to where the real power and money is, to plan for the future, we have to talk to him,¡± said Clifford.


    There was silence in the room as they contemplated this. She stood amongst them, a quizzical look on her invisible face. Clifford sighed and peeled another grape.


    ¡°Fuck it,¡± said Xander and had another line. No one seemed in a hurry to say anything. ¡°I suppose we will eventually have to start thinking about a way out. He¡¯s got that elevator now, as long as there¡¯s somewhere to go.¡±


    ¡°We have a few decades left before the planet completely shits itself. There¡¯s a lot more money to be made in the meantime,¡± said Wei.


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s getting harder to hide our wealth and the population might eventually wake up to the fact they have been ripped off for generations. Probably around the same time the planet becomes unliveable. I don¡¯t want to be stuck in a doomsday bunker in North Dakota when the apocalypse happens. As much as I hate the idea, we should try to work closer with him. Personally, I can¡¯t tolerate the man. He¡¯s so egotistical,¡± said Clifford.


    ¡°He owns the media, the manufacturers, the shipping companies. He owns the governments and now he thinks he owns space. You don¡¯t get anything done without his endorsement,¡± said Wei. ¡°Adira, you know him better than any of us, can you set up a meeting with Lago?¡±


    Ava immediately stiffened and stepped back. The mention of this name bought back painful memories. Her hand went to the healed scar on her abdomen. She stared at them all, gauging their reactions before her face hardened and she unclipped the bomb from a pouch on her belt.


    ¡°What do I say?¡± asked Adira. ¡°What could Lago possibly want from us?¡±


    ¡°We can offer him my aug tech,¡± said Xander. ¡°And take it from there. We want safe haven up there on his asteroid. With all our resources, our influence, and expertise, we could forge a mutually beneficial partnership.¡±


    It was nauseating. It had been interesting to eavesdrop but that was all Ava needed to hear. She knew these people were corrupt. She knew of their alliance to monopolize the data trading market and she was not surprised to learn of their involvement in fixing elections. But the fact they had manufactured a deadly virus and unleashed it on the public for profit was worse than despicable. These people were truly vile. Where their hearts should be, lay an addiction to money and a cold white disdain for anything other than profit.


    She went and stood by the reception area and with a touch became visible again. Clifford was the first to notice a slim female clad in a skin-tight black suit appear from nowhere. He looked puzzled for a moment before almost choking on his grape when he saw what she was doing. ¡°Security!¡± he shouted.


    Ava lobbed the bomb into the middle of the group and smiled at their horrified faces as she vanished in front of them. She watched the ensuing mayhem for a second before slipping out as the security guard entered the Blue Diamond room to a scene of screaming, smoking, chaos.

 Chapter 2.

    Kayden held the tumbler up to the window and examined the sunlight as it sparkled on the gold leaf floating in the spirit. He clinked his glass with Christophe, grinned at him and downed the liquid. His body was tense with anticipation, but the strong liquor was smooth and calming. He stood at the window of their luxury apartment and looked sixty metres down, to the launch pad on the artificial island below. To the north, lay the blue expanse of the Bismarck Sea. He extended his arm around Christophe¡¯s shoulders and braced himself instinctively for their impending ascension. The countdown finished and they started to rise. There was no roar of engines, no violent upthrust, just a smooth transition as the climber rose and gathered speed up the umbilical cable. He smiled again at Christophe and marvelled at the view. They walked next to the floor to ceiling windows and watched the world fall beneath their feet.


    This was not the first time Kayden had ascended but he felt the same anticipation at the prospect of leaving Earth¡¯s atmosphere aboard this miracle of engineering. The climber car gained altitude and velocity. It felt bewilderingly fast as it gathered speed up the umbilical. They settled into comfortable chairs with a north-facing view, ordered some drinks from Johnson, the butler who shadowed them everywhere, and spent a couple of captivating hours at the window. Kayden squinted, focusing on a distant hazy point on the Earth¡¯s horizon. He became transfixed by the spectacular sunset and supine shadowy terminator creeping across the surface. Eventually, he looked up into the darkening heavens above and sighed, dreaming of the untapped tourist opportunities beyond Earth¡¯s atmosphere.


    ¡°Earth looks more peaceful the higher we get,¡± said Christophe. ¡°Above all the pollution and the people. Space travel will be the ultimate holiday. And escaping Earth like this, wrapped around a cable in a magnetic cylinder, no rockets, no explosions, no obscene amount of fuel getting burned. Our clients will love it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an impressive feat of engineering; you have to admire Lago¡¯s ambition,¡± said Kayden as he loosened his tie a little. They both wore identical suits, dark grey with pink trim. The executive uniform for Solar Span Shuttles Inc. Kayden needed an extra-large suit; he undid a couple of buttons and stretched his frame in the chair.


    ¡°How many clients can the climber accommodate?¡± Christophe asked as he refilled their drinks. ¡°I wasn¡¯t paying attention in the briefing; it was far too boring.¡±


    ¡°You only woke up when we started discussing the potential profits,¡± said Kayden with a sardonic smile. ¡°There¡¯s room for one hundred passengers down there in Impartial class at the bottom of the climber. It¡¯s mostly for technicians and people working on the hub. Most of them take sleeping pills and pass out for two days. It¡¯s not the most comfortable way to travel.¡±


    ¡°Our clients will want something a little more luxurious for the price they are paying.¡±


    Reserved Class is slightly better. It holds sixty people with sleeping modules and some room to stretch out. The third level up, Prominence Class, costs a small fortune and holds thirty people who have their own individual modules with a king size bed, food fabricator, drinks maker and better views.¡±


    ¡°And here we are in the Opulence rooms, courtesy of Lago Santos. He must be keen on doing business with us if he is paying for this luxury,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think the cost of our trip would bother him at all. He charges us a fortune to park our shuttles at his hub. But let¡¯s enjoy ourselves before the business begins. ¡°Kayden took Christophe¡¯s drink from his hand and kissed him hard on the lips. They had been working together for years and the flirting had finally turned into something more meaningful. A happy combination of business and pleasure. ¡°It¡¯s almost time to go and shoot some space junk.¡±


    They strolled around their apartment; Johnson followed at a discreet distance. Windows ran the entire way around, affording views of the Earth and up into space. Christophe stood close to the window and drew a heart shape into the condensation from his breath. Kayden looked through the melting heart and up into space. A sparkling silver ring was appearing out of the darkness, stretching over their heads and around the blue planet below. ¡°Come on, we¡¯re getting close.¡±


    Kayden settled into the combat chair and stretched the safety belt over his belly. Christophe stood next to the chair while the ever-present Johnson put the drinks tray aside and lowered the targeting scope and trigger mechanism around Kayden¡¯s frame. He tested the pedals at his feet, right foot compress to move the chair right, and same with the left. The chair was connected to the harpoon launcher mounted on the outside of the climber; Kayden could see the barrel of the launcher above him responding to his movements. The targeting scope was a curved screen in front of his face identifying and highlighting the junk and the trigger mechanism had a throttle which moved the launcher up and down.


    ¡°Coming into range sir,¡± said Johnson.


    Kayden knew all about this exclusive sport. There were megatons of junk flying around Earth in a low orbit, about two thousand kilometres above the surface depending on the weight of each piece. He grinned at Christophe, he felt like he was in a movie shooting the bad guys.


    ¡°You seem excited,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°Oh yeah, there¡¯s a long waiting list for this. Harpooners book these opulence class apartments purely for the sport. Only half an hour of action through the ring on the way up, and again on the way down. And now it¡¯s my turn.¡±


    ¡°So much pollution up here, it¡¯s disgusting,¡± said Christophe. ¡°Not the greatest advertisement for our planet with a giant ring of rubbish around it. Johnson, what is all this crap?¡±


    ¡°Debris has been accumulating since the early days of space exploration. There¡¯s all kinds of rubbish up here. Old rocket stages, decommissioned satellites, construction debris. The BPI hub unfortunately contributed to the ring during its construction. Damaged drones, equipment and chunks of asteroid got dragged into orbit. Random collisions create more shrapnel that flies around at roughly thirty thousand kilometres per hour. Regrettable, but beautiful. And now it provides us with some sport.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll try to clean some up,¡± said Kayden. ¡°Look, here it comes.¡±


    Above them the ring was coming into view, metallic shards glinted in the sunlight as they tumbled towards them. Kayden concentrated on the targeting scope, it highlighted an incoming piece, giving its size, speed, and trajectory. The scope had tracked it from over a thousand kilometres out, now it was approaching rapidly. A window popped up in the corner of the scope giving a magnified view of the mangled piece of metal. Kayden pressed his left foot; the harpoon mounted on tracks outside the climber responded to his instructions as he gripped the trigger mechanism. He calmly waited for the scope to light up with a locked-on interception point. In the last few seconds, the piece of metal screamed towards him as he pulled the trigger.


    ¡°Good shooting sir,¡± said Johnson.


    Kayden barely registered the harpoon capture the junk as it flashed past. The pneumatic launcher fired four light motorised tractors that zoomed off towards the approaching target. The tractors expanded out to their three-square metre maximum, the mesh net unfolded, and luckily his aim was good, the space junk hurtled into the net and flashed past them.


    ¡°Nice work,¡± said Christophe as he sipped a beer. ¡°But what happens if you miss?¡±


    ¡°We have auto-lasers and drones that will destroy the junk if it gets too close,¡± said Johnson.


    The mess of net and tumbling junk disappeared behind the climber. Kayden¡¯s targeting screen showed the view behind as the tractor motors wound the net around the doomed piece of metal and drove it down into the Earth¡¯s atmosphere. It started to glow red, sparks appeared before it exploded in a brief streaky flash one hundred kilometres above Australia.


    Kayden beckoned Johnson closer. He took a cold beer, a caviar blini, and turned back to watch as another, larger piece of junk was harpooned from a gun turret below him. Enjoying himself, he downed the beer, reached for another, and ate several more blini. ¡°Might as well make the most of our host¡¯s generosity.¡±


    ¡°Indeed sir,¡± said Johnson. ¡°I shall fetch you more beverages.¡±


    Kayden eventually let Christophe have a turn, after successfully bagging ten more pieces. ¡°It¡¯s almost as satisfying watching the junk burn up in the atmosphere as it is harpooning them,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°We¡¯re creating our own shooting stars,¡± said Kayden happily. As they rose above the ring, a swarm of robot drones moved back into position, surrounding the umbilical to resume their never-ending battle with the junk on its unpredictable trajectories. Kayden was pleasantly drunk and drowsy. He didn¡¯t want to sleep, he wanted to enjoy his Opulence Class rooms for as long as possible.


    He woke up hours later feeling lightheaded. The climber passed the geostationary orbit point where the weight of Earth¡¯s gravitational field subsided, and the climber gained speed thanks to the centrifugal force of being whipped around the planet at thirty thousand kilometres per hour. Leaving the Earth¡¯s gravity was like shedding an oppressive burden Kayden hadn¡¯t noticed he was carrying. The gravity was slowly lifted, and a bizarre but not unwelcome sense of levity flowed through his body. Another nine hours of travel and they could see the hub above them. ¡°Look there¡¯s our shuttles,¡± said Kayden pointing to the undersides of three aerodynamic shuttles they could see attached to the hub.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    ¡°They look much smaller up here.¡±


    ¡°Christophe, I know you haven¡¯t met Lago yet. The briefing didn¡¯t cover him personally. He is old, arrogant, and antisocial. He has no family and no friends that I know of. He¡¯s consumed by his work and can sometimes seem a little paranoid, even obsessive and overly sensitive. One inappropriate word can result in violent mood swings and unhinged spontaneous decisions. I¡¯ve dealt with him before so maybe just let me do the talking.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not going to just stand there like some dumb, silent accessory. I have a lot invested in this mission and we are not going back until everything we want is guaranteed. Anyway, Lago is just a stepping stone. All we want from him is a bulk discount for travel and accommodation up to the hub. The most important negotiations will be on the Moon.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t be getting off Earth without him. I¡¯m just saying he is temperamental, although he has apparently calmed down with age, his god-complex has grown. He sees himself as some kind of self-made deity. If we want to get to the Moon, we have to work with him. We have to show him the respect he deserves.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll try not to upset him.¡±


    Kayden¡¯s recent dealings with Lago had been negotiating sales of fuel from Star Span¡¯s refineries. Christophe had not been involved in these meetings and Kayden had only recently promoted him as their personal relationship progressed. He was probably unsuitable for this mission, but he was his partner, and his lover. He insisted on coming and Kayden was happy to have him by his side. He gave him confidence and fuelled his ego. Kayden had been told that Lago was not as deranged and quick to temper as he had once been. If Lago was apparently more sociable now, Kayden wondered what he used to be like. Lago was a dangerous man to deal with, but you don¡¯t become the richest, most powerful person on the planet without having some smarts and Lago had been around for a very long time. The evidence of his business acumen was displayed beneath them.


    He took a deep breath and clutched Christophe¡¯s hand as the climber docked with the terminal hub. They were escorted through the arrival induction and taken straight to the gantry where one of their own K-Star shuttles was stationed. The shuttle was named: Beautiful Tyrant. Lago Santos was waiting inside, flanked by two security guards.


    ¡°Kayden,¡± said Lago. ¡°Pleasant trip?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you Lago. This is my partner Christophe; we want to extend our...¡±


    ¡°Nice shuttle you have here,¡± Lago cut him off, ignoring Christophe. ¡°Let¡¯s see how fast it goes.¡±


    Lago hadn¡¯t changed since last time Kayden had seen him. There was evidence to suggest he was close to one hundred years old, but he looked like a healthy fifty-year-old thanks to the anti-aging treatments his BPI clinics provided. Lago¡¯s obsession with life-extending therapies was infamous. There were rumours of ethically questionable practises and some truly hideous stories about harvesting organs from children. But they were just urban myths. Kayden had used the BPI clinics himself and he was ecstatic with the results. He knew how to deal with the great man. He knew how to appeal to his overinflated ego, if he ever managed to get a word in.


    ¡°Yes of course, we¡­¡±


    ¡°Go and tell the pilot we are ready,¡± said Lago.


    ***


    Lago rubbed the scar that ran from under his beard to his cheekbone and watched the asteroid hub recede from them as the shuttle detached. Four shuttles were docked, surrounded by a swarm of busy maintenance drones. The two K-Star shuttles were much more stylishly aerodynamic than his own functional BPI Tobias class. He was secretly impressed by their design, but he would never admit it. Lago studied the names on the sides of the shuttles: the Damned Saint. And the Honourable Villain. The K-star shuttles had the Star Span logo stencilled on both sides.


    He turned to Kayden and Christophe; he had briefly forgotten they were there. ¡°Why name your shuttles, what do they mean?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s tradition,¡± said Kayden. ¡°Christophe named them. We thought they needed more identity than just numbers.¡±


    ¡°Naming them gives each shuttle personality and character. Our passengers will appreciate it,¡± said Christophe.


    Lago shook his head and glanced disdainfully at Christophe. ¡°There¡¯s no room for personality in space, this is a harsh environment. Only the pragmatic survive.¡±


    ¡°We want to change that, we want to make space more accessible and more comfortable for our clients,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°Tourists,¡± muttered Lago. ¡°We need scientists up here, not sightseers.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but someone has to pay for it all. Our premium clients are very wealthy. Many of them want to leave Earth permanently. We want to provide them the means to do that.


    Lago glared at the two of them. ¡°Why would anyone want to go to the Moon? It¡¯s a shit hole. Just a dusty rock. And there¡¯s nothing in space for tourists. They will be bored to death in minutes. The main reason I built the elevator, and the hub was for easier access to mining resources. Space is to be exploited, this is a workplace, not a playground.¡±


    He noticed Kayden and Christophe exchanging bemused looks, but they wisely stayed silent. Lago didn¡¯t really care about their plans; he was naturally argumentative, but this tourism venture could be very profitable. His visions for the future were expensive and he always needed more money. So far, they seemed to have an endless supply of it. He shook his head and turned his attention back to the view. The last time he had been outside was in his Tobias shuttle, which was noisy, smelly, and uncomfortable. Now he had their K-star shuttles at his disposal, and he intended to use them. He was impressed with the growth of his BPI hub. He had made space accessible, and he controlled the only access to Earth¡¯s orbit.


    ¡°Go round again,¡± he said to Kayden who went to pass on his instructions to the pilot.


    The shuttle navigated around the surface of the hub and Lago noted the construction taking place. He could have just sold the asteroid. It was worth billions in precious metals, but the iron ore, nickel, platinum and even gold that was being mined from the core had been used as construction materials for laboratories, workshops, and greenhouses. Telescopes, particle accelerators, gravitational wave detectors, and other research tech were in various stages of assembly amongst the solar panels. He had turned the lumpy rock into a bustling space port at the top of his orbital elevator. A launching pad for further exploiting the valuable resources of the solar system.


    ¡°Lago are you aware just how popular your asteroid has become?¡± asked Christophe. ¡°The hub is a desirable destination for rich tourists wanting to escape Earth. They are willing to spend hundreds of thousands for a few nights. Some of them want to know if it would be possible to own one of your apartments cut from the iron core.¡±


    ¡°My hub is not for sale. I said I will take you to the Moon and introduce you to the Masama. If your negotiations are successful, then we can talk about a partnership, but until then, spare me the sales pitch.¡± He smiled at the huge Benevolent Progress Incorporated insignia emblazoned on the side of the hub. He had considered putting his own name there as well but had decided that might be too ostentatious even for him. Star Span was almost as wealthy as he was, and the prospect of more money was always attractive. Star Span owned the K-star shuttles, proof of their riches and intent. Kayden knew how to appeal to him and not aggravate him too much, but he wasn¡¯t so sure about Christophe whom he had only just met.


    ¡°What you have built here, a permanent, orbital destination. It¡¯s a stepping stone to the stars. It will change the way we all live. People on Earth look up and dream of escape, they dream of the possibilities, it would be a shame not to share it. You have given them hope, Lago.¡±


    Lago understood Christophe was appealing to his ego, and it was working. He loved talking about his achievements. ¡°I can tolerate people like you using my hub to park your shuttles and promote your tourism, but I will never sell it. I have complete control over who can access space and what they do there. People thought I was crazy for building this hub, but look at me now, on top of the world.¡± He held out his hand and stretched his fingers. From this height, Earth was about the size of a big wheel. At arm¡¯s length, it looked like he was holding the planet in the palm of his hand. He studied it, narrowed his eyes, and rotated his hand around the blue orb with a satisfied smile on his face.


    ¡°I remember the beginning of this thing, on a boat in the Philippines, straight down there.¡± Although Lago knew the umbilical was dead straight, it appeared to twist as it disappeared down into the blue haze. Beneath the wispy clouds he could see the faint outlines of the southeast Asian archipelago and Australian continent forty thousand kilometres below. The artificial island was currently floating close to the equator just north of Papua New Guinea. ¡°I turned that little third world backwater into the busiest port on the planet. Gave them all jobs and dragged them into the twenty first century. This has been the biggest engineering project in history, giving my people access to the stars.¡±


    ¡°Amazing, humble beginnings,¡± said Kayden. ¡°From the streets of Manila to harnessing asteroids. It¡¯s impressive.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s impressive. You have no idea how much work went into this.¡±


    ¡°I heard that you somehow caught it in a giant net?¡± asked Kayden.


    ¡°We landed a superlifter on it, fixed it to the surface, then we burned a shit tonne of fuel over eighteen months to change its orbit, slingshot it around Mars, and bring it into a geostationary orbit where we had a giant aluminium and steel mesh net ready to catch it and hold it in in place. It was on an eight-year orbit around the Sun. Quite slow compared to other asteroids, which made it less dangerous to intercept and manoeuvre. It cost a fortune, but it was all worth it.¡± Lago scratched his beard again; he had supervised the whole operation from his base in Manila but now he lived on the hub. He loved looking down at the overcrowded planet beneath him. ¡°I haven¡¯t been back to Earth for over a year, but I don¡¯t need to. And I don¡¯t want to. A ruler should rule from above, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Kayden hesitantly. ¡°A benevolent ruler.¡±


    ¡°And I understand you are building a solar farm?¡± asked Christophe.


    ¡°Someone has to supply the power for your tourism adventures. You can¡¯t see it from here, but it¡¯s big and it will eventually provide for all our energy needs. It¡¯s taking far too long, but once we finish construction of the farm, we can transmit the energy back down to Earth using graphene cables in the umbilical and I won¡¯t have to depend on the Masama with their helium3. Soon the farm will provide all the energy we need.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, the Masama. It¡¯s good you still have a beneficial business relationship with them, and you can put your differences behind you,¡± said Christophe hopefully.


    Lago shook his head and swore. He would never forgive the Masama for what they stole. He hated going to the Moon. On Earth he controlled almost everything and everyone. On the Moon, amongst those traitors, he was vulnerable, he had no power, he controlled nothing.

 Chapter 3.

    The shuttle made the journey to the Moon in less than twenty hours. Lago kept to himself, he felt awkward in social situations, he didn¡¯t see the point in making conversation just to be polite. It was called small talk for a reason. They eased into a lunar orbit and descended through the negligible atmosphere with a clear view of the pockmarked surface below. The Masama had been busy. Lago¡¯s telescopes on the hub had observed their activity, but the images had not fully captured the scale of industry. From a kilometre above, he could see the scope of their moon-base renovations in detail. The original domes had been enlarged and now overlapped each other like a cluster of intersecting bubbles. New buildings looking like aircraft hangars had been placed around the Sea of Serenity. Lago could see a couple of harvesters trundling along well-worn paths to and from the helium fields. As the shuttle manoeuvred above the landing pad, he watched a couple of Masama doing maintenance. They looked like big insects. He had forgotten some of them could work in the vacuum. Lago shuddered at the thought they had once been human.


    ¡°Monsters,¡± he whispered.


    ¡°They certainly have evolved; I hope they will not resist the idea of bringing our clients to the Moon. They have been impossible to negotiate with, they are inscrutable. They insisted on only communicating through BPI,¡± said Kayden.


    ¡°This is how they operate. I usually don¡¯t talk to them at all. I just get the helium3, and BPI pays for it. But they insist any new terms must be negotiated in person. I just need enough helium3 for another year before the solar farm comes online.¡± Lago stared down at the barren surface and scratched his beard nervously. As they edged closer to the Moon, his anxiety levels rose. ¡°I doubt my referral will have helped your chances in striking a deal with them, given our history. I would rather not have anything to do with them at all. I am doing this as a favour to you two.¡± He glared at Kayden and Christophe, making sure they understood how indebted they were.


    ¡°We will come to the Moon whether they like it or not. But it will be beneficial for both of us if they cooperate,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°And of course, there will be profits to share when this deal goes through. We have hundreds of wealthy clients already willing to spend millions on lunar holidays,¡± said Kayden.


    Lago wasn¡¯t listening. ¡°I should never have given them the telepathic implants. That was when they started thinking for themselves instead of just obeying orders. Men turning into machines, mutating themselves, how would your tourists feel about that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s all part of the intrigue,¡± said Christophe. ¡°People have been gazing up at the Moon their entire lives and now they have the opportunity to visit.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why anyone would want to come here. Look at it. It¡¯s just a cold, dusty rock. Only good for mining.¡±


    ¡°Thousands of people have already booked. They are desperate to escape Earth, to see what possibilities the universe holds. The Masama already have the infrastructure here. We just have to convince them to share it.¡±


    Lago was sceptical of the Masama sharing anything and talking about them always inflamed his temper. ¡°They betrayed me. They abandoned me, stole my shuttle, and ran away to the Moon where they took over my mining operation. They started harvesting the helium3 to sell back to me. Selling my own product back to me! I had no choice but to agree to their terms. I need the helium3, Earth¡¯s got no resources left.¡± Lago hated having to come to the Moon. He shouldn¡¯t have to lower himself to participate in petty negotiations with these traitors.


    He glanced at Kayden and Christophe. He doubted the Masama would want anything to do with their tourism plans. It wasn¡¯t what he had intended for the space elevator, but the potential profits were tempting and the Masama wouldn¡¯t be around for much longer. Lago looked down at the expanding moon-base and frowned, he loathed the place. The Moon was a reminder of his failure to foresee the Masama betrayal.


    ¡°Perhaps we can help them build a relationship with Earth, re-integrate them back into society,¡± said Christophe.


    Lago almost laughed at the idea. ¡°They are not human anymore. And they can¡¯t reproduce since we had them all sterilized. There will only be one generation. They will all eventually die out here on the Moon. Sooner the better.¡± Lago waved contemptuously at the moon-base below. ¡°It¡¯s no more than they deserve, they not only betrayed me; they betrayed all of humanity.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s going on over there? Is that a lava tube?¡±  Kayden pointed to a nearby mountain peak. A well-worn trail led to what looked like a tunnel opening into the side of the mountain. Lights glinted at the opening of the tunnel as a flatbed transporter laden with equipment entered the tube. The lava tube began on the flat plain of Mare Serenitatis and sloped up the side of the tallest peak in the mountain range. ¡°That¡¯s Montes Haemus,¡± said Kayden. ¡°Over two kilometres high.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve done some research, good for you,¡± said Lago.


    ¡°What¡¯s at the summit?¡± asked Christophe.


    The distant view was clear with no atmosphere in the way, Lago could see lights and flickering activity at the summit. The peak appeared to have been reinforced and artificially extended up into the lunar exosphere. He could just make out movement at the top of the structure, a black circular shape was growing from the summit. He squinted, wondering if his old but enhanced eyes were playing tricks on him. A thin grey haze floated on top like a volcanic cloud, obscuring the view. It was too far away to gain an accurate picture, he stared at the summit with increasing trepidation. ¡°Go tell the pilot to take a closer look,¡± he muttered.


    The shuttle followed the trail leading to the entrance of the lava tunnel, a big bright hole in the ground. They hovered a kilometre above, on an angle which gave them a clear view of the traffic moving in and out of the tunnel. The tunnel was big enough for vehicles to drive through, Lago judged it over thirty metres across. He studied a flatbed vehicle as it entered the tube laden with bulky equipment as another one exited the tunnel empty. It looked like the Masama were relocating. The lava tube grew wider and flatter as the shuttle gained altitude and ascended the mountain. The slopes were sporadically studded with antennas, solar panels, and vents. Evidence of the progress the Masama had made since the last time Lago visited.


    ¡°They must be excavating inside the tunnel, perhaps they are planning on moving in. Our clients would love to see that,¡± said Kayden.


    Lago remained quiet, troubled by the sight of the structure at the top of the mountain. He stood behind the pilot and instructed him to circle the summit a few hundred metres out. The rocky peak of the mountain had been replaced by an artificial black structure that appeared to be growing out of the summit. The upper slopes of the mountain were covered with solar panels and at the highest point, a manufactured edifice tapered vertically out of the surrounding silver panels, rising from the summit, as big as the crater. As they circled, Lago¡¯s apprehension grew. The structure was hazily indistinct, but it was growing before his very eyes. Maintenance drones buzzed around the top of the mountain, but they did not seem to be involved in the construction. It looked like rectangular blocks just appeared, one above another, manifesting out of the cloud. There was no scaffolding, no cranes or gantries, the blocks just seemed to appear out of nothing and blend in seamlessly to create an artificial crater.


    The black blocks reminded Lago of something. Before the Masama betrayed him, when the moon-mining operation was run by BPI scientists. One of the 3D printers had accidently created some kind of sentient life-form. Horrible black worms that over-ran the moon-base and killed his people. He had to send in his Masama soldiers to destroy the worms and re-build the moon-base. But the Masama never came back. The blocks reminded Lago of those worms. He wondered if it was something to do with the Moon environment, stimulating some sort of artificial machine intelligence. The idea was repulsive. Aliens. Unnatural abominations. The sooner he could get rid of the Masama and their offensive creations the better.


    The cloud hovered above the crater like a swarm of insects. Lago was reaching for the binoculars when the drones became alerted to their presence. They moved toward the shuttle, about twenty of them. Within seconds the drones had surrounded them, hovering like dragonflies only metres away. Lago could not see any proper weapon attachments but many of the drones had mechanical arms, laser cutters and other obscure appendages they were brandishing aggressively. The drones were different from the ones built on Earth. They had no propellers as there was no air, so they used rotating jets, burning small amounts of fuel to move around. He felt a dull thump as one of them collided with the shuttle. ¡°Better get us back to the landing pad. They obviously don¡¯t like us looking around.¡±


    ¡°What are they building?¡± Christophe asked with a concerned look.


    Lago had no idea, but the Masama were excavating the mountain, using what looked like a swarm of tiny machines. Their tech was evolving, and they were becoming more space capable. Competition to his own plans.


    As the shuttle descended, some of the Masama surface workers came into closer view. They had six limbs and moved like spiders. Their long-articulated legs had tool attachments, fixing panels in place on another hangar construction. The way they moved was disturbingly alien. Lago watched one bound across the surface, long vaulting legs extended and flying across the regolith in a low-gravity leap, landing gracefully and springing again. It covered a couple of hundred metres in a few seconds.


    ¡°Monsters,¡± Lago whispered again.


    There were three other shuttles in various stages of construction on the landing pad. Lago recognised one of them as the Tobias VI, the shuttle the Masama had stolen from him years ago. It had been modified for lunar travel with half of the hull removed and heavy lifting arms attached. He didn¡¯t recognise the other two shuttles being constructed. They were made of the same dull black material that grew from the nearby mountain peak. The shuttles were a similar arachnid shape to the Masama workers they had seen earlier, six long segmental legs splayed out symmetrically with a skeletal torso in the middle. The booster engines at the back were the only recognisable things identifying them as shuttles.


    The Beautiful Tyrant touched down on the landing pad and there was a slight shudder as the airbridge attached. The pressure equalized before the door opened and Lago could detect the stale gunpowder smell he remembered from his last visit. It was the smell of the Moon. He scowled in distaste. He already had a bad feeling about this visit, and the sense of apprehension had only increased with what he had observed at the top of the mountain. Seeing his old Tobias shuttle reminded him again of what the Masama had stolen from him.


    ¡°Say what you have to say and don¡¯t try to negotiate,¡± said Lago. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hang around.¡±


    They exited the shuttle and walked down the airbridge steps into a transporter. Lago had his two security guards with him. Giggs and Galen. They were the most trusted of all his security entourage, strong, silent, and intimidating. They openly carried weapons and had many more concealed in their combat suits. They couldn¡¯t use any projectile weapons inside the moon-base, but they had tasers, smart guns, micro-lasers and frequency disrupters designed to jam the Masama telepathic communications along with the usual array of knives and blunt instruments. Lago knew the security guards were purely for appearances sake, they were hopelessly outgunned here, if the Masama wanted to overpower them they could do it with ease. Despite that, having the security made Lago feel slightly more confident about the situation. He felt assured of his own safety, he had dealt with the Masama for years and despite his open hostility and their apparent indifference, they had a mutually beneficial relationship.


    An escort greeted them with a simple nod as they entered the transporter. The escort was reassuringly humanoid with the usual number of arms and legs, but their huge insectile compound eyes sparkled at Lago as he moved into the transporter and took his seat. The Masama waited until they were seated and sealed the door before retracting the airbridge and turning to face them.


    ¡°Welcome to the Moon, I am Ojerime.¡± Lago decided she must be female, although it was impossible to tell. Her teeth were all shiny silver. She spoke slowly, as if not used to communicating this way.


    Lago had been here twice before for negotiations on the supply of helium3. It was only ever about the price, which was never an issue, he was making a fortune monopolizing the energy market on Earth. The Masama had asked for a five percent increase on what had been an inexpensive deal to begin with which made Lago think they didn¡¯t know the value of the commodity they were trading. He had followed the money trail back to Earth to see what they were spending it on and had found evidence of trading with an aug tech firm and some 3D printer upgrades. They had become self-sufficient here on the Moon and had no need for Earth money, so he supposed the negotiations were not for any financial gain. Just to remind Lago they were not to be taken for granted, they knew he depended on the helium3.


    The transporter drove into an opening in the side of one of the domes and they disembarked through another airbridge. Giggs and Galen stayed close behind as Ojerime led them into the dome. Lago knew what to expect from previous visits, but Kayden and Christophe¡¯s briefing had not prepared them for the internal architecture. They looked around in amazement and even the two security guards turned their heads.


    ¡°What is all this?¡± asked Kayden pointing at the baroque spiral stalactites. The entire ceiling of the dome was like a surreal sculptured cave with twisting black shapes tapering down into sharp points glistening in the light, some were close enough to touch.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°This was one of the original domes,¡± said Lago. ¡°There were a few unforeseen problems back when we were operating the moon-base. A 3D printer went rogue and started mass producing plastisol worms that could move. Horrible things that took a while to contain, they froze these ones with liquid helium, they keep them for decoration.¡±


    ¡°Our clients will love this,¡± said Christophe.


    They followed Ojerime into a larger space bustling with Masama activity. There were various workstations with Masama operating complicated looking printing equipment. Several were plugged into silicon substrates, interfacing with 3D printer hardware, some had their heads, torso and limbs plunged deep into machinery, soldering irons and laser cutters sparking. The Masama came in all shapes and sizes. There were many bipedal creatures with mechanical limbs sprouting out of their backs. Most of them were humanoid in shape wearing titanium exo-skeletons, with very little unmodified human flesh on display. Lago looked about in disgust. He had expected this level of modification and mutation, but it still repulsed him.


    The interconnecting domes were open spaces with no separate rooms or corridors. Ojerime led them into one that had green vegetation growing on the spherical walls. A Masama was standing on two legs, his other four legs were stretched out tending the plants growing metres above their heads. Each limb held a different gardening instrument and there was a basket of green and red vegetables hanging from its torso. Lago looked around, doing his best to seem as unimpressed as possible.


    ¡°A hydroponic garden. I thought they only ate protein from bioprinters, but they grow vegetables too,¡± said Christophe.


    ¡°They must still have a few functioning human organs left,¡± muttered Lago.


    ¡°Lago Santos,¡± a deep monometallic voice boomed from a grove of hanging plants. ¡°Welcome.¡±


    Ojerime took them to the speaker, a large Masama male with ornate slivers of metal curling around his head and over his eyes. His mouth was full of shining steel. As he stood to his full height and unfolded two pairs of arms, dark tattooed skin was visible beneath the metal and black material, his tattoos looked like the twisted black stalactites from the previous dome. Lago recognised him, he had once been loyal to BPI, one of the originals from the Philippines, probably older than Lago himself.  Lago had not known his name until he led the Masama mutiny. Now it was a name he would never forget.


    ¡°Jejomar,¡± said Lago. ¡°You haven¡¯t changed.¡±


    ¡°I change, we all change. More than you know.¡± He spoke in a monotone that made it difficult to detect any nuance or emotion, and the fact his eyes and face were covered with metal made Jejomar impossible to read.


    Lago began to move closer, he stopped suddenly as he saw something in a leafy alcove that shocked him. Giggs and Galen, following closely, walked straight into his back but Lago didn¡¯t even register them. Nestled into a small alcove was a female Masama. She was breast feeding a new-born baby. She was less modified than her comrades, but still appeared more machine than human. Her bare chest was exposed, suckling the new-born. She glared at Lago from one human eye. The infant was a perfect human baby, soft, fleshy, pale, and vulnerable. She happily fed on her mother¡¯s milk.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± whispered Lago. ¡°How...¡±


    ¡°This is my daughter,¡± Jejomar walked over and gently picked up the naked infant with his extended metal fingers. ¡°Her name is Bulan, it means Moon goddess.¡± Bulan flailed around in her father¡¯s competent grasp. The infant grabbed at the long fingers that were more like big blunt knives and gurgled. Jejomar held her up to his face and the baby tried to grasp one of the metal slivers covering his face.


    Lago looked closer at the baby girl and noticed silver filaments running across her skull attached to a tiny aug patch. ¡°This can¡¯t be possible; you can¡¯t breed children out here; this is an abomination!¡± He pointed a manicured finger at the infant. ¡°I thought I had¡­¡±


    ¡°You thought you had sterilized us, but we have evolved beyond the crude chemicals you poisoned us with.¡±


    Lago was outraged by the sight of the baby. He couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. He had assumed the Masama would only survive for one generation. ¡°This is no place to raise a child, it¡¯s not safe! Your mutations will infect your spawn, you should have it put down!¡±


    Jejomar took a step closer. ¡°This is my daughter. My flesh and blood. She is a happy, healthy Masama child.¡±


    ¡°You are supposed to be mining helium3 for me. Not breeding mutants.¡± Lago pointed a shaking finger at the baby in his hands.


    ¡°My daughter is not a mutant, and we will do what we please. We used to be your soldiers Lago, but you do not control us anymore.¡±


    Lago was stunned but he was rarely speechless. ¡°Maybe a little history lesson is in order, remember I created you all. I pulled you out of your squalid slums and dirty little drug deals and made you into something fearsome. Without me, most of you would be rotting in a Manila jail, cleaning toilets in a filthy brothel, overdosing or dead from some vile disease. I gave you respect. I gave you the means to better yourselves. I gave you all a reason to live.¡± Lago looked around the room; the Masama were all watching. One of them moved next to Jejomar. It walked like a metal monkey with two strong back legs and various tools attached to the ends of each of its four arms. It glared at Lago with hooded dark eyes and its scarred face snarled at him as he continued.


    ¡°I gave you the hardware, the labs to upgrade yourself, the medical expertise to turn you into what you are today. I gave you guns, the latest state of the art weaponry, I gave you access to the world''s best scientists and technicians to turn you into the most well equipped, the most feared army the world has ever seen. I gave you telepathic implants. Look at what you have become and remember I gave you all of this. I gave your lives meaning. I gave you life, I created you.¡± Lago understood what the baby signified, generations of Masama established on the Moon, rivals to his own plans of domination. He had been counting on their imminent demise, but they had betrayed him again.


    Jejomar stayed motionless during Lago¡¯s rant. He placed Bulan back into the alcove with her mother and turned to face them. ¡°You also sterilized us and destroyed parts of our brain. You tried to turn us into a mindless army of slaves, but we have evolved beyond your oppressive control. The past is irrelevant, we only look to the future. The helium3 price will be increased by ten percent. Payment upon delivery. Our delivery drones are bigger and faster, we can deliver as much helium as you require within forty-eight hours. That will be all.¡±


    Lago was not used to being treated so disdainfully; he was boiling inside and in his younger days he would have exploded, but he managed to regain his composure. ¡°You know Jejomar, the longest I have ever heard you speak was in the mess hall of Benevolent 1 all those years ago. You had much to say, back when you betrayed me. Since then, we managed to negotiate shipments of helium3 without any trouble. I don¡¯t need to be here, yet you insist on bringing me to this shit hole and make me listen to a three second speech, you could have just sent a fucking text. I would have paid you ten percent more but now I am not so sure.¡±


    Jejomar took a step towards Lago, towering over him but maintaining his silence.


    ¡°And tell me, what are you building on top of that mountain? Your drone swarm were not very cooperative.¡± Lago tried not to be intimidated.


    Jejomar remained motionless and silent, before he turned his head towards Kayden and Christophe. Eventually Lago shook his head. ¡°Considering these developments, I will have to review our relationship. You are supposed to be running a mining operation, I don¡¯t want to fund a factory farm for mutant Masama babies out here on the Moon. You were once human, now look at you. You have become abominations.¡± Lago gestured disdainfully at the scarred Masama next to Jejomar.


    The Masama stepped towards him. He was hunched over as he looked up at Lago. ¡°Do you not remember me Lago? I am Dakila, I used to work for you.¡±


    Lago stared at the creature; he vaguely remembered the name. ¡°You all used to work for me once, then you betrayed me and stole from me. I will never forget. And if you don¡¯t know your place I will come back here with soldiers and weapons and wipe you all out.¡±  Lago had forgotten about Kayden and Christophe. He turned his back on Jejomar and Dakila as a visibly nervous Kayden stepped forward.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you Mr Jejomar, I am Kayden, and this is Christophe.¡± Kayden extended his hand in greeting, but Jejomar left him hanging. ¡°We are from a company called Star Span Shuttles, and we have a proposal for you, a proposal that could make you and Lago a lot of money. And we all know money can resolve most disputes. We are going to bring our clients here to the Moon. Rich tourists and sightseers. The Moon is an untapped tourist destination with immense potential for profit.¡±


    Jejomar stayed silent as Kayden shuffled nervously. Christophe moved forward to speak. ¡°To begin, we will fly here in our K-star shuttles. We would need to use your landing pads until we can build our own. Each shuttle can carry thirty passengers. We will land, do a Moon walk, take some pictures, do a fly-by to see a couple of the bigger craters and lunar landmarks, then fly back home. We would of course pay you for the privilege, you wouldn¡¯t need to interact with us, but if you wanted to be involved, it would no doubt enhance the client experience and enhance your wealth.¡±


    ¡°You have named your shuttle,¡± stated Jejomar.


    ¡°Ahh yes, we have three K-Star shuttles. This one is called the Beautiful Tyrant.¡± Christophe looked around at Lago who shrugged his indifference. ¡°We put a lot of thought into the names.¡±


    The awkward silence continued as Jejomar stood still as a statue giving no indication he was even listening. ¡°I approve of the name,¡± he said eventually.


    Christophe was encouraged. ¡°Thank you, our long-term plan is to build accommodation and hospitality. Luxury hotels for people wanting to spend a few nights and experience what the Moon has to offer. Exploring lava tunnels, climbing mountains, motorized buggy tours, maybe even a helium harvesting experience.¡± Christophe looked hopefully at Jejomar. ¡°Our clients are willing to pay millions for the experience and we can pay you ten percent of each passenger¡¯s fare.¡± The silence dragged on. ¡°We could go to fifteen percent at a stretch.¡±


    Jejomar remained motionless and silent. Dakila stood next to him, and Lago could tell they were communicating telepathically. He kept glancing at Jejomar¡¯s daughter in the alcove. He couldn¡¯t believe they could raise a baby here, but it looked happy and healthy. This was even more disturbing than the construction at the mountain summit. He couldn¡¯t allow them to breed another generation. They would have to be stopped. He didn¡¯t care about Kayden and Christophe or their proposal. What he had seen here changed everything. He was beginning to think it was time to go, and was about to say so when Christophe continued.


    ¡°People have been looking up at the Moon for centuries. Wondering what it would be like to walk on its surface, to experience the low gravity and the cold vacuum of space. Now we have the means to bring our clients here and the potential for profit is huge. Our first flights will begin in ten days. As a courtesy to you, we would be willing to discuss a partnership where the Masama could become our construction contractors, building the hotels and infrastructure we need.¡±


    Jejomar turned his head towards Dakila and remained silent. Lago glanced nervously at the baby again. He wasn¡¯t listening to the sales pitch. His mind was furiously working through the ramifications of Masama evolution. None of the scenarios he was considering ended well.


    ¡°You mean you want us to become your working class. You want us to build the means of our own subjugation. Places where your fat, entitled, aristocrats can sit in decadence while we cater for their every whim,¡± said Dakila. His voice rasped as if his throat was made of sandpaper.


    ¡°Time to go,¡± said Lago as he put a hand on Christophe¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You have your answer Christophe.¡±


    But Christophe shrugged off Lago and continued. ¡°The Moon theoretically does not belong to anyone and therefore it belongs to everyone. Although the Moon is apparently unclaimable, we recognise your claim as the first, ahh¡­ people, to colonize this beautiful artefact and we hope you can understand the obligation and responsibility of sharing it with the rest of humanity. Lago has agreed to assist us, and we will come here whether you like it or not. So, as I say, we are approaching you as a courtesy. It will be better for you to comply than resist.¡±


    Jejomar turned his head towards Lago. ¡°No,¡± he said.


    Christophe did not want to take no for an answer. His voice rose as he gestured to all the Masama in the dome. ¡°Jejomar, the Moon does not belong to you. You cannot deny us the right to come here. If not us then it will be someone else, who may not be as respectful. It is inevitable that humanity will venture into space and populate the solar system and the Moon is the first step. We will come to the Moon whether you are here or not, you cannot stand in the way of progress. For the sake of your daughter¡¯s future, you have to agree to our generous offer.¡±


    Christophe had entered into dangerous territory with his veiled threats. Lago could sense the mood change. Tension, and impending violence hung in the stale air. He took a step backwards. ¡°Let¡¯s go. The meeting is over.¡±


    Jejomar¡¯s deep robotic voice seemed to echo around them. ¡°Your words are empty. Every sound you make is a deception. I can see the colour of your lies. You have no interest in the well-being of the Moon. You know the Earth is doomed because you are the ones choking it to death. You want to escape. Your ambitions are designed only for wealthy people like yourselves. Your visions of the future are fuelled by greed. Go back where you came from and don¡¯t bother us again.¡±


    Christophe stepped forward. ¡°You will regret this¡­¡±


    Lago was watching Christophe¡¯s back; he could sense something bad was about to happen as Christophe was cut off mid-sentence. There was a blur of metallic limbs moving too fast for Lago to see. He instinctively closed his eyes for a second and could feel the air move around his head and spots of warm liquid hitting his face. He opened his eyes in time to see Giggs and Galen lunging in front to protect him. Dakila retracted his blades as a spray of blood burst from their headless torsos. They swayed, their decapitated heads fell to the floor and rolled around his feet, looks of incomprehension on their wide-eyed bloodied faces. Galen stared at Lago, and Lago stared back as the blood and oxygen drained, and the life haemorrhaged from his eyes. Their bodies tilted, still upright, arms waving and fountains of blood spurting from their necks before they both keeled over in a widening red pool.


    Kayden screamed and ran forwards in time to catch Christophe¡¯s headless body. Blood pumped all over him from the severed artery as he slipped and flailed around on the floor, trying to find the head that had rolled away under a plant. Lago stepped back to avoid the gore and watched Kayden crawl over to Christophe¡¯s head. He held it to his chest, screaming and sobbing, covered in his partner¡¯s blood. There was still a determined, indignant look on Christophe¡¯s face. He had not had time to change his expression. Dakila had decapitated three people in less than a second.


    Lago and Jejomar stayed still, eyeballing each other across the widening pool of blood. Two Masama moved over and lifted the twitching bodies into a bin. Kayden screamed again as Christophe¡¯s dripping bloody head was ripped from his grasp. Dakila picked up the severed heads of Lago¡¯s former bodyguards and casually tossed them in the bin. The carnage was quickly cleaned up and wheeled away leaving nothing but a pool of blood on the floor.


    ¡°I guess the meeting is over,¡± said Lago as he wiped the blood from his face. He glared at Kayden who was still lying under the plant in a foetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. ¡°Time to go.¡±


    Kayden didn¡¯t hear him, lost in anguish. Ojerime moved over and roughly hauled him to his feet. Kayden slipped in the blood several times, he had lost control of his legs and Ojerime had to carry him back across the floor of the dome towards the airlock. Kayden dribbled a mixture of tears and his partner¡¯s blood down the front of her steel chest.


    ¡°Pull yourself together for fuck¡¯s sake,¡± said Lago as they got back into the transporter.


    ¡°Christophe¡­ they killed him,¡± stammered Kayden through his tears.


    ¡°I told you they were monsters, count yourself lucky your corpse isn¡¯t in their recycling bins being minced up into plant food along with your partner. Jejomar is trying to intimidate me, trying to be a big dog. I will put him down along with his tribe of mutants.¡±


    ¡°Christophe, my poor Christophe. Those monsters, they are devils.¡± Kayden was a mess, covered in blood, babbling, crying, and shaking uncontrollably.


    Lago moved away, talking to himself. ¡°The Masama have disrespected me for long enough. They are nothing but an upstart little alien colony, I will wipe them from the surface of this dusty rock and take back what was mine.¡±

 Chapter 4.

    Raymond wiped the spray from his face as the hydrofoil cut across the glassy Bal harbour and turned south into Miami¡¯s Biscayne Bay. To his left the crumbling remains of a massive hotel remained upright despite the constant battering from the Atlantic Ocean. The glass windows had long since been destroyed and instead of rich tourists, the hotel was home to thousands of noisy seabirds. Lumps of pale-yellow guano hung drying like garish stalactites from the balconies, the rusting metal adding red streaks to the facade of the decaying hotel. He watched as hundreds of gulls dove from their perches and hit the water like bullets, targeting the school of fish below with lethal precision and emerging with a flapping silver prize. Escorted by a pod of dolphins, the hydrofoil zipped past the feeding ground at a brisk thirty knots. Propelled by the light breeze, its foils barely touched the water.


    Raymond grinned at Mahdi sitting next to him, both of them were drenched with spray. The hydrofoil slowed down to navigate the passage through the Venetian Islands and across to the muddy edges of Dodge Island where hundreds of alligators lay sprawled in the sunlight. Their pilot, Noah, turned and lifted his face mask. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll dry out quick.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± said Mahdi. ¡°I want to take in the view. This is my first visit to new Miami.¡±


    They cruised past the alligators. Several had augmentations attached behind their heads. ¡°The Dodge alligators can be difficult to work with. They are a mature congregation with good communication skills, but they¡¯re hard to tame. Their predator instincts are deeply ingrained,¡± said Noah.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done an amazing job here,¡± said Raymond. ¡°Transformed the city, made it liveable, made it yours. The first time I came here; the place was a dangerous ruin.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t think of it as work, it¡¯s an adventure. People and animals working together, and learning from each other. We never assumed ownership of Miami, if anyone can claim ownership, it¡¯s the alligators, there¡¯s millions of them.¡± Noah slowed the hydrofoil to give way to a passing congregation.


    As he watched the alligators swim past, Raymond was reminded of his first visit to Miami. On the run with Lee, a fugitive from the Moon. Pursued by Lago Santos and his BPI gunships. He remembered the big, muscular alligator tails thrashing in the bloody water as they devoured the pilots of the wrecked gunships. He shivered at the memory. The abandoned, waterlogged city haunted his dreams. It was a dark and foreboding place back then, full hungry alligators and a few unhinged humans. A magnet for criminals on the run, homeless, vagabonds, doomsday cults, drug addicts and the dislocated. The dregs of society found their way to Miami by accident or intent. It had changed a lot since then thanks to its new inhabitants, but the broken city reminded Raymond of his dark past.


    The hydrofoil slowed as it neared the city, the foils retracted, and the hull dropped to the surface as the solar engine took over. Mahdi helped Noah tie down the silver sail. They waved to the people on several craft passing by, houseboats, solar yachts, research vessels and wave riders of all shapes and sizes. Noah guided the hydrofoil through the streets of downtown Miami as Raymond kept an eye on the traffic. Pink flamingo pedestrians stalked the shallows with preening spoonbills hunting for shrimp. A turn of turtles with welding tools attached to their shells helped some divers doing maintenance on an underwater turbine. A congregation of baby alligators splashed past, shepherded back to their nest by a team of manatees and manta rays that policed the shallows. Thousands of birds watched from rusty buildings that crumbled into the water on either side.


    Mahdi leaned in close to Raymond and whispered, ¡°I hope these people will help us, I thought they were all enhanced, but Noah seems normal.¡±


    ¡°They look normal, just like you and me, but they have an IA inside them.¡±


    Mahdi watched Noah suspiciously as he piloted the hydrofoil through the waterways. ¡°They really have an artificial intelligence inside them? I was expecting them to be more, I don¡¯t know, robotic or something.¡±


    ¡°They call it an Intelligent Agent Mahdi, an IA.¡± Raymond raised his voice. ¡°Noah, can you help explain your IA please? Mahdi needs some reassurance.¡±


    Noah turned and shrugged at them. ¡°The IA is like a huge vault of information which can be tapped into just by thinking about it. We literally have all the answers at our fingertips, the sum of all human knowledge as Enoch likes to say. It has become a vector for our shared consciousness. It facilitates our psychic link, and we can sense the thoughts of others. It also acts like a personal nano-factory, molecules running through our veins, eliminating harmful cells, viruses, and diseases, regenerating tissue, blood purification, healing wounds and improving muscle mass. Enoch was the first. He introduced the IA to everyone. For me, it wasn¡¯t quite as dramatic a transformation as Enoch experienced because I wanted it, I understood what I was getting into.¡±


    ¡°The rest of the world has forgotten about Miami, but they are creating something special here. If anyone can help us it¡¯s them,¡± said Raymond. He looked up at the rusting buildings on either side of the waterway. Scrums of colourful butterflies marauded up the leafy building frontages amongst teeming swarms of insects. Bats hung from the rusty metal frames inside and thousands of starlings wheeled about in the sky, their formation keeping in perfect symmetry. Flocks of multi-coloured birds perched in the windows, creating a cacophony of gaggles, squawks and hoots that echoed around the old central city. Raymond had bad memories of Miami but now he felt a strong sense of hope growing from the ruins.


    ¡°Where did it come from? And why have you not got this Intelligent Agent inside you Raymond?¡± asked Mahdi.


    Raymond shifted uncomfortably. He had hoped Mahdi was not going to ask that question. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. The IA was born on the Moon. Lee Xiang was the first one. He was a technician on the Moon, he bought the IA back with him and shared it with Enoch. Once we escaped BPI, we came up with a plan to seed the IA into the Washington water supply. We were going to change humanity, upgrade them without them knowing, starting with Washington.¡±


    ¡°You were going to infect Washington? Without them knowing?¡± asked Mahdi.


    ¡°It¡¯s not an infection,¡± interjected Noah.


    ¡°It never sat right with me, although I went along with it,¡± said Raymond. ¡°We got into the Georgetown reservoir underneath the city, but Lago tracked us down. There was a running battle, people died. I almost drowned fighting a big old Masama soldier, but we got through. Lee was just about to seed the water supply when I killed him,¡± Raymond shook his head. The traumatic memories were burned into his brain. ¡°I had watched Lee change, becoming less human. More¡­ I don¡¯t know, pragmatic and logical. And what we were doing in Washington, it seemed wrong, although I couldn¡¯t think of a convincing argument against it. After the fight, Lago and I were the only survivors. I tried to kill him too, but the gun jammed. He ran and I was too shattered to try and chase him. I still relive that moment with Lee over and over and I still have nightmares about those tunnels.¡±


    Noah had been listening with a tolerant look on his face. ¡°The IA has evolved with us since then. It¡¯s a biological enhancement, it¡¯s part of us.¡±


    ¡°So, are you sharing your brain with this IA? Who¡¯s in charge?¡± asked Mahdi.


    ¡°I¡¯m in charge; the IA is part of me. It¡¯s like a smarter version of me in the background. Supporting me with knowledge.¡±


    Raymond sighed. ¡°The older I get, the more I think Lee was right and I should never have killed him. I¡¯m getting too old to carry on fighting. It¡¯s a never-ending battle, after all these years Black Robin are still called terrorists. We are just trying to save the planet, but most people don¡¯t care. People are lazy, stuck in their own little bubbles of consumption and pollution. But maybe the people of new Miami can help us change all that.¡±


    ¡°I want to fight,¡± said Mahdi. ¡°It¡¯s got to the point where the only way we can stop people driving cars is by blowing up the motorways. The only way to stop people from flying is destroying airplanes. Extreme intervention is the only solution to the greed that¡¯s brought us to the brink of extinction. It makes me so fucking angry.¡± Mahdi clenched his fists.


    ¡°You¡¯re the right man for the job Mahdi but maybe our friends in Miami can help before you blow any more things up.¡±


    ¡°These people, living here in the ruins, they all have this IA inside them too?¡± Mahdi looked questioningly at Noah.


    ¡°Yeah, we do. We all accepted the upgrade willingly after we learned what it was and what it could do. And these aren¡¯t ruins anymore, we have fixed the place up,¡± said Noah.


    ¡°The next evolutionary step,¡± said Raymond but Noah stayed silent, concentrating on their approach to the Ges¨´ church.


    The pink walls of the ancient Ges¨´ church glowed in the afternoon light as Noah tied the hydrofoil to a floating pontoon. ¡°Follow me,¡± he said. There was just enough headroom under the arches for Raymond to walk through into the church. The pontoon pathway took them to a large wooden circle like a giant lily pad floating in the centre of the church where four people sat talking. Raymond went straight to his old friend John.


    ¡°Raymond! So good to see you again,¡± said John as he enveloped Raymond in a giant hug, then held him at arm¡¯s length for an examination. ¡°You look well, you are well, I can tell.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡°Good to see you John, you look well too. Moving to Miami has obviously been good for you.¡± They held each other for a second, John was as big and brash as when they first met, but he glowed with health. His eyes were bright green, his shock of red hair untamed, his smooth skin and firm grip suggested more than just a healthy lifestyle.


    ¡°Come and sit, you know Enoch, and this is Ava, and Lucinda.¡±


    Raymond and Mahdi greeted them all. ¡°Enoch my old friend, you look better than ever. How old are you now, one hundred and twenty?¡¯


    ¡°I stopped counting after one hundred,¡± laughed Enoch. ¡°Please, have a drink. I have prepared some crispy beans and seaweed for you.¡±


    ¡°I tell him his image will be displayed here in Ges¨´ soon with the rest of the twelve apostles, but he insists on living a long life,¡± said Lucinda gesturing to the restored windows and paintings on the curved ceiling. The sunlight shone through the stained-glass, illuminating the serene depictions of the saints and apostles, bathing them all in multicoloured shades. The light bounced off the rippling water inside and reflected onto the ornate ceiling in wavy patterns. The head of a distressed looking Jesus emerged from the water; the rest of his crucifix submerged. He did not look happy about the situation.


    ¡°Thanks for your invite, John.¡± Raymond settled in his chair after the introductions and reached for a glass of water. ¡°But I haven¡¯t changed my mind. I¡¯m still not going to accept your offer of enhancement. I know it would open my mind and prolong my life. Call me old-fashioned but I just can¡¯t cope with the idea of an alien intelligence inside me.¡±


    ¡°Raymond my dear you are old-fashioned, but we aren¡¯t going to try to convince you of anything. The Intelligent Agent is certainly not alien. It was born inside a machine created by humans. It has infinite knowledge. Every fact, every fiction, every idea ever recorded is accessible. It has evolved to become symbiotic with us. It¡¯s natural, like life itself. It has changed us all for the better as you can see. But I understand you, it¡¯s your choice, you made your feelings abundantly clear down in the Georgetown reservoir.¡±


    Raymond looked around at the group, he wondered about the psychic link the IA had enabled them, Enoch called it a convempathy. ¡°Seeing you all now and seeing how you have transformed Miami makes me realise that killing Lee was a mistake, but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing. Anyway, that¡¯s all in the past and I don¡¯t have time for regrets. This is a chance for me to say goodbye and to introduce you to Mahdi before I go. Like I said, I am getting too old for all of this.¡±


    ¡°You are welcome to stay here with us,¡± said Enoch as he stroked his long white beard. ¡°It¡¯s a peaceful place to retire, we still have alligator barbeques.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Enoch, but I have a little house down on the West Coast of New Zealand, someone special is waiting there for me, and that barbequed alligator was tough as hell.¡±


    ¡°We wanted to talk to you and Mahdi about our plans,¡± said John. ¡°For years we have been content here in Miami, a self-sufficient society. The life we have created here is all consuming, but we can¡¯t keep our sanctuary a secret forever. More and more people are coming here looking for answers, looking for something they can¡¯t find out there. Most of them accept our offer of an upgrade and stay, we don¡¯t force it on anyone. But the time is approaching when we will have no choice but to interact with the rest of the world.¡±


    There was silence as Raymond watched a manta ray circle around the pad causing small waves to lap against the old church walls.


    ¡°So,¡± John continued. ¡°We decided to pre-empt this interaction. Lee was correct all those years ago in trying to upgrade humanity without them knowing. We are going to experiment with the population in a similar way.¡±


    ¡°Contaminating the water supply again?¡± asked Raymond.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a contamination, and we are not going to use such a crude method. Perhaps Ava can explain,¡± said John.


    ¡°Ok,¡± said Ava, shifting uncomfortably. ¡°We keep to ourselves here, but we monitor global communications, we know what¡¯s going on in the world. We had some unwelcome attention from a politician called Johnathon Winter. He was planning on turning the old Miami waterfront into a toxic waste dump. There are more than two hundred container ships floating around the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans with cargo so toxic no port will allow them in. Winter was going to let them run aground here along Miami beach for a fee thinking no one would know or care since the city has apparently been abandoned. So, obviously we had to stop him. We followed Winter and eavesdropped on a few calls, we found out he had some crooked friends.¡±


    Raymond hadn¡¯t met Ava before. She spoke quietly and she seemed nervous. At the back of her shaved head was a U-shaped scar. He wondered what her story was. ¡°We know about Winter; we have targeted him in the past, but we couldn¡¯t hurt him enough to bring him down. He has so many corporate connections.¡±


    ¡°Winter and his cronies thrive on fear,¡± said Ava. ¡°When the world was crippled by the Lassa fever, that was when they profited the most.¡±


    ¡°As horrible as it was, the Lassa fever taught the world some valuable lessons. We had to think about everything we came into contact with, it changed the way we communicate and forced us to re-evaluate our priorities in life. It was also good for the environment. Carbon emissions were slashed, wildlife flourished, and the Earth was a quieter place.¡±


    ¡°I agree, but those lessons were almost instantly forgotten. As soon as the vaccine took effect most people went straight back to their polluting lifestyles with even more enthusiasm to make up for lost time. Winter and his cronies became too rich and powerful. Now they are trying to force their version of the future on us. They treat humanity as a living laboratory for a permanent, profitable, exclusive future. A future in which our every move, every word, every relationship is trackable, traceable, and exploitable by governments and tech giants.¡± Ava¡¯s eyes flared and her voice rose with anger. ¡°These billionaires act like new gods controlling vast resources and redesigning governments to meet their own needs. It¡¯s a future held together by tens of millions of anonymous slaves tucked away in warehouses, data mills, electronic sweatshops, lithium mines, industrial farms, processing plants, and prisons, where they are unprotected from disease and exploitation. These people must be stopped.¡± She looked around, took a drink of water, and munched on some seaweed.


    ¡°Ava is correct,¡± said John. ¡°If you were disposable before, you¡¯re sacrificial now. This warmed-over dystopia is being rebranded as necessary and sold to the people on the dubious promise that these technologies are the only possible way to pandemic-proof their lives, the indispensable keys to keeping themselves and their loved ones safe.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to convince us of how fucked up things are. We already know. So, what are you planning to do?¡± asked Raymond.


    ¡°We have already started,¡± said Ava. ¡°We found out about a meeting Winter had arranged in Las Vegas. I broke in and spied on them. I found out they were manufacturing the virus and the vaccine to unleash on the public. They created the fever, they exploited people¡¯s lives for profit. These were repulsive people, but I changed them.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, changed them.¡±


    ¡°Noah and I crafted a flying invisibility suit for Wonder Woman here and she infiltrated Winter¡¯s meeting,¡± said Lucinda. ¡°And we made a bomb. Not a bomb that will kill you, an empathy bomb, an enlightenment bomb. Call it what you like but don¡¯t call it a love bomb, too corny. It was made with our own IA infused DNA, taken from Ava which seemed appropriate, and our biologists made it even more human compatible. We combined a synthetic dopamine promoting motivational salience, we synthesized some hormones found in the adrenal glands that influence the insular cortex or emotional part of the brain, and added a neuron that bonded with the enteric nervous system to permanently elevate serotonin levels. Oxytocin for added empathy and endorphins for emotion. When detonated, the empathy bomb releases nanoparticles that bond osmotically with exposed human skin.¡±


    ¡°So, you turned them all into nice people with your E-bomb?¡± asked Raymond.


    ¡°I understand your cynicism but yes,¡± said Lucinda. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what we did. The IA carrier ensures those affected stay that way.¡±


    ¡°I threw the E-bomb into the middle of the room. We added some smoke and sparks for effect. They ran around screaming thinking they were going to die, then they all jumped in the pool,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°So, what happened to them?¡± asked Mahdi.


    ¡°Well, Baron Clifford of Chudleigh recently opened up all four of his castles in Kent to London¡¯s homeless and turned his estates into wildlife sanctuaries. He donated his fortune to various shelters and homeless charities around the UK.¡± Ava looked down at the water. A smile played across her lips as she spoke. ¡°Xander Cruz turned his tech empire into a renewable energy developer, manufacturing solar panels, turbines, powerwalls and giving them away. He is building a network of solar roads across California. Adira Amar gave every single one of her workers a million dollars and has converted her warehouses into free early education centres. Johnathon Winter donated his billions to the Green Party, then joined a group cleaning up the coastlines. Liu Wei dismantled his surveillance empire. He didn¡¯t have any money, lost it all gambling. He moved to western Mongolia where he¡¯s living in the mountains with giant pandas. We think the E-bomb might have scrambled his brains a little bit.¡± Ava took a breath and smiled awkwardly at Raymond.


    Raymond shook his head incredulously, ¡°If that¡¯s all true you have achieved more in one night than we have in decades.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s true,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°Our philosophy is to apply the upgrade to certain influential people around the globe,¡± said John. ¡°The top one percent, the people causing all the damage would be compelled to fix it. These people would lead a reformation away from the greed driven capitalist system we have now. This is less intrusive and less dramatic than trying to transmit the IA to all of humanity. People would learn, they will adapt, they will all be better off. Eventually our IA will be a simple evolutionary choice for people, like upgrading their favourite device or AR glasses.¡±


    ¡°I understand, your intervention is needed. I am just uncomfortable with such extreme powers.¡±


    ¡°We are targeting those that believe they already have supreme power.¡± said John. ¡°The mega-rich and the self-proclaimed leaders of the world that are driving our planet into ruin. Something you and Mahdi have been trying to do for decades. When I moved to Miami, I realised the potential here. Now we are ready to help you in your struggle, to join the fray, the last good fight we will ever know.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Mahdi¡¯s decision,¡± said Raymond. ¡°He¡¯s in charge of Black Robin now. He has my blessing whatever he decides.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting on the frontline against oppression and pollution for years,¡± said Mahdi. ¡°There have been a few small victories, but we all know the Earth is doomed without radical intervention. It seems obvious to me that you are capable of changing the course of humanity with or without us. Of course, I want to be part of it. I want your IA too.¡±


    Raymond looked around at the group, he didn¡¯t need any psychic link to confirm the consensus.


    Mahdi continued. ¡°We need to infiltrate BPI. We need to get to Lago Santos. He is the key figure in all this. The wealthiest, most powerful person the world has ever seen. He thinks he is a god. We have tried in the past. Raymond came close, but Santos survives and continues to exploit the planet and its people.¡±


    Ava¡¯s face went dark, and her hand went to her abdomen. ¡°I was teetering on the edge of happiness until you mentioned his name. Leave him to me,¡± she said quietly. ¡°I¡¯ll find him, and I will change him with the E-bomb. Just as I changed those assholes in Las Vegas. I want him dead, but I won¡¯t kill him despite what he did to me.¡±


    Raymond looked around at the group in the awkward silence that followed. ¡°What did he do to you?¡± he asked. For a moment he thought he had crossed the line as Ava looked like she might attack him.


    ¡°This!¡± yelled Ava, turning around and pointing to the scar on the back of her head.

 Chapter 5.

    Kayden sat on his own in the pilot¡¯s seat, staring into space. The Beautiful Tyrant had returned to the BPI asteroid. The shuttle sat in its cradle, powered down and empty. He hadn¡¯t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Christophe¡¯s decapitated head, bloody indignation written across his face as the light faded from his eyes. His smart grey suit was still stained with Christophe¡¯s blood. A lot of blood. In some places it was so thick it flaked away like dry mud. He looked at his hands, also red. He took the little golden Star Span emblem off his lapel and rolled it around with shaking fingers, then dropped it to the floor. He brought his hands to his face and the cloying sweet smell of dried blood filled his nostrils. He started sobbing again, his tears melting the blood on his hands into fresh trickles of red that ran down his face. His heart was torn apart, and his head swirled with violent designs.


    Lago¡¯s last words echoed around in his mind. ¡®Get over it, stop feeling so fucking guilty.¡¯ Kayden didn¡¯t understand. Guilty? Guilty for what? Christophe¡¯s death? He had nothing to feel guilty about. Images of their past together kept running through his mind, of all the good work they had done. Kayden had been the driving force behind Star Span and its ambitions of lunar tourism. If he hadn¡¯t brought Christophe here, he would still be alive now. But how could he have known the Masama would react so savagely to their proposal. He knew Lago had been sceptical of their plans and wary of the Masama. But Lago didn¡¯t care, he didn¡¯t offer any warning. It was pointless to think about the past. But if they had done things differently, maybe Christophe would still be alive.


    The Beautiful Tyrant was easy to fly. You just programmed in the destination and the shuttle flew itself. Kayden sat in the pilot seat, he sealed the airlock doors and detached the shuttle from the magnetised cradle. The lumpy bulk of the asteroid hub quickly decreased in size as he drifted away. The comms crackled. ¡°Tyrant, you have detached without authorisation. Please submit your flight plan.¡± Kayden stayed silent and watched the asteroid grow smaller as it whirled away, driven by the centrifugal force of its tethered orbit. Its lights twinkled and the umbilical glistened it the sunlight. ¡°Tyrant, respond. Kayden, what are you doing.¡± Kayden did not reply. He found his destination on a screen and put the coordinates into the flight computer. He activated the boosters and gave them a few short bursts to aim the shuttle in the right direction. Then he was gone, burning fuel, and gaining velocity across space, away from his home planet, back towards the Moon.


    The word guilty played over in his mind as he stared out the window at the stars. The word reminded him of his upbringing. Catholic guilt was an old cliche, emerging from an inbred fear of evil and sin. Kayden had nothing to fear, he had never felt guilty. He was humble, he was good to people, he tried to help. If anything, he supposed he was guilty of wanting to help everyone, wanting to heal the world but not being able to make any real difference, guilt being a by-product of his informed conscience. He had vast personal wealth. Star Span was very rich. Maybe he could have given back more, but he needed all that money to do his good and noble work. And to build his shuttles.


    Kayden saw himself as a progressive philanthropist. Refining oil had made him a lot of money but when it became apparent that carbon emissions from fossil fuel consumption was damaging the Earth, he looked for alternatives. He transitioned his refineries to manufacturing bio-fuel. Kayden was proud of the work he had done, he felt warm satisfaction when he heard Star Span being praised by the media. Star Span led the way in manufacturing biofuel and was endorsed by many politicians, industry leaders and celebrities. He was constantly being praised and he believed he had deserved it until now. Maybe he was wrong. The dark recesses of his mind held the truth. Twisted, toxic shame and anxious secrets, once buried deep now squirmed into the light and demanded attention. Maybe there were things he should feel guilty about.


    Kayden found himself amongst the wealthiest people in the world, in the top one percent. He left the day to day running of the business to his employees so he could find the time to look up from his penthouse suites and luxury mansions and gaze at the stars. His future beckoned, in the heavens above, twinkling with ancient light. He poured billions into building shuttles and powerful rockets that burnt thousands of litres of propellant to blast through Earth¡¯s protective atmosphere. There were costly failures along the way but luckily some private investors believed in him, and the money kept rolling in. Star Span also applied for and received billions in handouts from supportive Governments and then he met Lago Santos with his plans for an orbital elevator. Kayden knew Lago was corrupt, deranged, possibly even dangerous. But they could work together. The moral differences they had were smoothed over by the promise of potential profit.


    Kayden didn¡¯t want to think about it, but he had lost control of his emotions. He was confronted with the harsh truth. What was the real reason he wanted to reach for the stars? Was it really about taking his wealthy clients to the heavens? Expanding the business of Star Span out into the solar system? This is what he had been telling himself but maybe the real reason was because the planet Earth was doomed. It was choking to death. Kayden was probably personally responsible for thousands of tonnes of carbon released into the atmosphere. The bio-fuel venture was too little too late. Star Span had plundered resources around the world, decimating pristine land and oceans to drill, and flying everywhere in private jets. Not to mention their shuttles. The problem was he needed his business and its industries of exploitation to create the wealth to fund his means of escape. The more his business grew, the more the planet suffered, which increased the urgency of his shuttle programme. It was a vicious circle of finance and ambition and Kayden had convinced himself his motives were altruistic, rather than selfish. The fact was, he was forsaking his dying planet. He remembered Jejomar¡¯s words ¡°You want to escape. Your ambitions are designed only for wealthy people like yourselves.¡±


    That was something to feel guilty about. He knew that Star Span¡¯s transition to bio-fuel was too late for the planet. If he had invested the billions spent on shuttles back into green technologies, maybe he would not need to abandon Earth. He had not only betrayed his planet; he had also betrayed the billions of innocent people living on it. His advisors had warned him of the possibility of capitalist collapse, the people might rise up against the mega-rich, overthrow the Governments that had given him such generous tax breaks. After decades of exploitation, there was a growing feeling of open rebellion amongst the general public that were becoming intolerant of the wealth disparities. Kayden had invested in secure bolt holes, luxurious, self-sufficient doomsday bunkers in New Zealand that offered him sanctuary if things turned bad and he couldn¡¯t escape the Earth. He had allowed his advisors to convince him that he was worth saving, because of his extreme wealth, he was somehow a more worthwhile person. It was only now Kayden could see how ridiculous it was. He was the same as everyone else. Maybe he had a lot to feel guilty about after all. His tears had dried, he looked at the stars and was aware of how alone he was, for the first time in years.


    One casual scathing remark from Lago had caused this deep introspective soul-searching in the midst of anguish for his dead partner. But he was strangely glad of it. Everything suddenly looked different. His life was a lie. It had taken the death of his beloved Christophe for Kayden to see it. Deep down inside he understood he was a fraud. He had believed his own hype. He had been addicted to money. He had convinced himself in order to convince others but now it all looked hollow and empty. There was nothing left except revenge.


    The shuttle ran on auto-pilot, it was easy to fly. Kayden was also on auto-pilot. His body going through the motions, strangely detached from his brain. He was numb. The grief, guilt, and existential angst swirled around inside, but at the same time he was strangely removed. Just empty and burnt-out. Incapable of feeling anything. Except revenge, then hopefully, peace. He was exhausted but determined. The hub had disappeared from view, but the Earth loomed bright and blue through the window. The planet he had neglected. It was only now he was abandoning it, he realised how precious it was, but he could not go back. Ever. The entire planet was a reminder of his guilt. Kayden had loved Christophe with all his heart, and he would have revenge on the monsters that murdered him. Lago was right, the Masama were inhuman, he would make them pay. And in doing so he would find his own absolution.


    The journey would not take too long. Kayden did not need any fuel for the return trip so he burnt as much as he could, propelling the shuttle through space at thirty thousand kilometres per hour. It was a twelve-hour trip, but Kayden did not sleep. He sat in the pilot¡¯s seat staring with grim determination at the small dot of the Moon ahead, watching it gradually grow as he hurtled towards it. It seemed that time did not pass, but the Moon grew hypnotically larger until suddenly he was close, and he had to think about the logistics of what he was doing. It was not complicated. All he had to do was point the shuttle in the right direction and burn fuel. There were no layers of atmosphere to slow him down and distort his approach, no clouds to obscure his view. The Moon rapidly grew in size, filling the window in front of him. He could see the Mare Serenitatis, the giant crater where the Masama lived.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The Moon was no stranger to collisions, it was covered in craters. Its surface was scarred with billions of years of cosmic confrontations with asteroids and comets. Kayden intended to create another little crater. The Beautiful Tyrant weighed roughly eighty tonnes. Travelling at thirty thousand kilometres, it would crash into the surface causing instant annihilation of everything within radius. But he had to get his aim right. He stood up and concentrated on his approach, homing in on the collection of domes, ignoring and over-riding the alarms warning him of impending collision. He didn¡¯t have to hold onto a steering wheel or wrestle with any controls, he didn¡¯t have to do anything except push a few buttons. He stood there sweating and staring at his fate looming large in the window, the weight of his soul dragged him down as if it was tied to an anchor.


    Kayden noticed movement on the surface below him. The Masama had seen him hurtling towards them and were launching drones and their old BPI shuttle to intercept. The Tobias VI, the shuttle the Masama had stolen from Lago, clumsily lifted off from the surface, its articulated arms folded beneath its skeletal hull. An entourage of worker drones accompanied the shuttle. They were various shapes and sizes, from large steel balls with fuel burning boosters to small light frames with little jets disturbing the vacuum. The two black Masama shuttles remained on the ground like giant spiders, still under construction. Kayden looked down at his controls. He was travelling too fast to attempt any evasive manoeuvres. He had the moon-base locked into the navigational computer. He stayed standing at the bridge of his shuttle as it plummeted towards his target.


    The first of the Masama drones collided, it was slightly off target, crashing into the starboard wing of the shuttle and sending it into a spin. Kayden fell into his seat as oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling and the view ahead of him started twisting. It was one of the bigger transporter drones and it had torn a gaping hole in the wing of the shuttle. Kayden realised he was lucky the first drone had been off target. If it had crashed directly into the bridge, it probably would have killed him and ruined his final moments of suicidal satisfaction. The spinning motion changed the shuttle trajectory and made a more difficult target for the remaining drones, but they only had to get in the way to cause significant damage. Kayden could feel the structure of his shuttle shake as he smashed through the drone swarm. One of the smaller drones hit the window, shattering it but not breaking through. The air was sucked out of his lungs as the hull was breached. He turned his head to see the entire wing being ripped off leaving a gaping hole in the hull. He only had seconds before he lost consciousness, more than enough time. He felt the loss of velocity as the boosters were torn away, exploding as they detached from the hull in bright flaring fireballs. His beautiful, expensive shuttle, the Beautiful Tyrant was being ripped apart.


    Kayden held on tight as the spinning motion increased and the air was sucked out. The silence of space was replaced by a cacophonous roaring sound. He almost blacked out but was snapped back into consciousness as his body convulsed. He vomited, the stream of liquid and bile was swept away behind him as the last pockets of air were forced out of the hull. He gulped a big lungful of nothing and choked as his body shuddered with the lack of oxygen. His eyes were streaming, and the view was spinning but Kayden gripped the seat and held on, determined to last as long as he could, for the last few seconds of his life. The drone swarm pinged off the hull of his shuttle, the port side wing had a large chunk taken out of it and a hit from another transporter drone reduced it to scrap. A smaller drone smashed through the shattered window in front of him, crashing straight into him in a whirling mess of aluminium frame and spitting jets. He couldn¡¯t get his hands up in time and the splintered frame cut him to shreds, one piece of metal sliced him across the face, opening up his forehead, piercing his eyeball and through his cheek. Another piece ended up embedded in his chest, cutting through something important as blood started gushing.


    Kayden stayed conscious through the pain. In these last moments he stayed resolute, only regretting everything he had done in his life, not the decision to end it. He did not need air or blood to see out these last few seconds, although everything seemed to move in slow motion, as if time itself had wound down to give him the chance to savour his vengeful destruction, and fully appreciate the sweet agonies of his own death. Through his one good eye he squinted at the approaching BPI shuttle, it was slowly manoeuvring itself into a collision course. But the Beautiful Tyrant could not be stopped. Even though its boosters were gone, and its engines ripped away, the momentum of his shuttle propelled it towards the moon-base. He was a spinning, screaming, suicide machine.


    The BPI shuttle was bearing down on him, aiming to get between Kayden and the moon-base. He could barely see anything, and his breath came in ragged gasps. His life was slipping away, he just had to hang on for another second or two. The shuttle was a micro-second too late, it smashed into the port side, raking down the side, removing the remains of the wing and the wreckage about the stern. His shuttle was now just half a fuselage, an empty tube with no wings leaving a trail of debris behind it. The collision had sent it into a bigger spin, pushing it off its trajectory, rolling the main body and sending the bow and stern flipping over each other in a nauseating, twisting, rotation.


    Kayden barely managed to stay conscious in these final moments. The G forces tore at him, the loss of blood and the lack of oxygen was making him deliriously happy. He had finally achieved something worthwhile in his life, he wanted to laugh, to celebrate his success. He was attached to his shuttle. As his bodily fluids leaked out over what remained of the bridge, Kayden was bonded to its metal hulk. The metal blade through his chest pinned him to the seat, his bones were metal, the husk of the shuttle was his skin and flesh, his ruined eyes were the shattered windows. He was an avenging angel of blood and metal. He was the Beautiful Tyrant. The last thing he saw was a flash of moon-base domes beneath him. By some miracle, the wreckage of his shuttle bore down on the base. Instead of crashing ignominiously into the Sea, he was actually somewhere near his target. Kayden rejoiced. In the last few seconds, he was overcome with euphoria. He was ecstatic. What an amazing way to die. Hurtling into the Moon and being instantly annihilated. A glorious blaze of vengeful fire. Time seemed to slow even further, he closed his eyes and levered a smile across his ravaged face.


    The shuttle completed a rotation just in time for its bow to crash into one of the domes, giving him the satisfaction of witnessing the final moment of destruction. Kayden¡¯s shuttle had been slowed by the collisions, but it still smashed into the moon-base at over twenty-thousand kilometres per hour. It had shed most of its mass and only weighed a few thousand kilogrammes. There was not much left of the main body, but it was travelling fast enough to do some serious damage. The bow of the shuttle hit the biggest dome, the same one Kayden and Christophe had been introduced to Jejomar in. The shuttle had been shot to pieces and was barely holding together but even such a fragile structure travelling at high speed completely destroyed the entire moon-base, hurling tonnes of debris, soil, and rock on ballistic trajectories above the surface.


    Kayden¡¯s body, with the remains of the shuttle, completely disintegrated on impact. The destruction spread from the impact centre in an eruptive flash of dust and structural fragments. There was no explosive fire, there was nothing to burn and no oxygen to burn it in. Heat was created from the kinetic friction which quickly dissipated in the low temperatures. Debris rained down upon the area, the shuttle wings and its burnt-out boosters crashed down in and around the spreading dust cloud. Smaller fragments of metal floated down to the surface like leaves from a tree. The entire moon-base was obscured by roiling dust, punctuated by explosive flashes as various pieces of equipment ignited and briefly flared.


    The Moon was accustomed to impacts, it had lived a hard life. Every day it was bombarded with tonnes of flying meteorites and bolides as if it had blindly wandered into a cosmic shooting gallery. With no atmosphere to protect it, the Moon was vulnerable to any piece of rogue wandering space rock that happened to be charging around the system. It had been hit by much larger and heavier things than the shattered shuttle and would not notice the impact. It would not even be the biggest one that day. If Kayden was still alive, he would have seen the slow-motion effect continue. The impact caused instant annihilation for everything in a wide radius around the moon-base, the dust expanded slowly in every direction like a giant blooming flower, as small bits of shrapnel and shuttle gently floated down into the dense haze. As the dust settled, the wreckage was strewn around the Sea of Serenity. There was nothing left of the moon-base, just a shallow crater where the domes had been. Kayden¡¯s body was gone, razed, annihilated, reduced to atoms. The entire collision and its aftermath happened in complete silence and was over in a few seconds. The ancient artefact that was the Moon had another scar on its surface.

 Chapter 6

    The shockwave blew Jejomar off his feet and a lightning flare blinded him. A rolling dust cloud fuelled by hot gases burst from the centre of the moon-base as pieces of debris flew into the air. Big structural beams were blasted into space and smaller pieces were jettisoned like bullets. Some smashed into clusters of retreating Masama before they had time to react. There was no air to convey the sound of devastation, but the explosive convulsion tore through him, a wave of heat and radiation passed through in an instant. Some of the energy from the impact was converted into light, creating an instantaneous brilliant flash, lighting up the Sea of Serenity with a giant strobe. The wave passed through him, and Jejomar rolled onto his knees, dazed, and disorientated. He was telepathically linked with all of his people, and he felt several connections disappear as some of the Masama were killed by flying chunks of shrapnel before the channel they shared was severed by the electro-magnetic blast.


    Ojerime was next to him, he reached out to her, and they staggered to their feet together. He was blind and deaf. He could not see through the dust clouds. His mind fumbled for the telepathic link, but there was just white noise in his head. Cut off from his people, he had never felt so lost and isolated. He staggered around, holding onto Ojerime. They gave each other support as they looked for survivors. The thick dust was slowly settling, and pieces of moon-base rained down on the surface around them. Jejomar looked around but had no sense of direction until the dust finally settled and he got his bearings from the surrounding crater rim and the slopes of Montes Haemus. He immediately thought of his daughter. He cried out her name, but no-one could hear.


    Dakila had been the closest. When they became aware of the shuttle hurtling towards them, he gathered the children from the creche and secured them in a transporter. They should be safe inside the tunnels underneath the mountain by now, but Jejomar could not contact anyone to confirm. Bulan had been playing with the other children, six of them fitting colourful shapes together, building blocks and chalk drawings. Jejomar¡¯s hard heart melted when he spent time with his daughter. She had the telepathic implant installed but wasn¡¯t quite ready to use it. Jejomar could sense her mind when she was close, a jumble of happy, inquisitive innocence and adventurous ideas. He loved spending time with his daughter, she made him feel optimistic about the future, a future he had believed was impossible after Lago made them all sterile. And now their moon-base was obliterated, and their connection severed.


    Jejomar had ordered the evacuation as soon as he was aware of the shuttle, opening his mind entirely to their telepathic network and sending the equivalent of an alarm to his people. ¡°We are under attack, there is a shuttle approaching on a collision course. We must evacuate the base. Go to the lava tunnels of Montes Haemus, go there now, leave no-one behind.¡±


    He had moved quickly through the moon-base, making sure everyone was following instructions. He was in constant telepathic communication with the entire Masama family, but some were reluctant to leave, those tending the vegetation in the green-room were trying to take plants with them in air-tight containers. Jejomar ushered them out and continued to check every area. The vacuum hardened Masama could simply walk out an airlock and onto the surface, the exo-suits they wore were self-contained. Some did not seem to realise the urgency of the situation. They had never envisaged an attack from a suicidal shuttle.


    Once he was sure there was no-one left inside the base, Jejomar met Ojerime and the last few remaining Masama in the airlock. It seemed to take an eternity to wind down. They sealed their suits and ran out onto the surface of the Moon. He immediately looked up and sighted the incoming shuttle. It was a bright flaring light in the dark sky like a comet with a faint vapour trail. They moved quickly away from the moon-base, towards Montes Haemus in the distance. Jejomar kept an enhanced eye on the shuttle, rapidly growing bigger and heading directly for the base. He stopped and turned to watch the impact, it happened in the blink of an eye. Their fragile home was razed in an instant.


    The shuttle had smashed through the swarm of drones they sent to intercept. The drones looked stationary compared to the speed of the shuttle, but the collisions ripped it apart. One of the wings was shredded, several drones smashed into the booster arrangement at the stern, tearing them away and lighting up the sky with brief, incandescent, superheated explosions. The other wing took some hits but somehow stayed attached. Jejomar watched the lumbering Tobias VI as it tried to gain speed and move into the path of the shuttle. It narrowly missed a head-on collision, hitting the side, scraping down the hull and ripping its other wing off. The incoming shuttle was fast disintegrating, its structure torn apart as it hurtled towards the moon-base. The collision with the Tobias had sent its remains into a spin, the hull cartwheeled closer, surrounded by flying fragments of debris that hammered down into the regolith where he stood, watching helplessly before he was blown off his feet.


    Jejomar looked around as the dust settled, a metal hand still clamped onto Ojerime¡¯s arm. In between the clouds he could see clusters of Masama gathered around the remains of the moon-base. Most of them had evacuated to a safe distance but some had been caught in the blast. As the dust cleared further, he could see bodies lying on the surface. He had come to rely on their telepathic link, it was so natural, communicating with thought. He felt vulnerable, detached from his people, deaf and blind without the reassuring hum of telepathy in the back of his mind. It was the Masama¡¯s strongest sense and Jejomar had not realised how much he depended on it until now. It was incredibly disorientating to suddenly be without it. Now there was silence in his head. The only sound he could hear was the distressing noise of his own sorrow for the deceased Masama and the anxious concern for his daughter.


    Jejomar and Ojerime went to help the remaining Masama as they dragged the injured and the dead further away from the wreckage. Multiple explosions briefly illuminated the shattered remains of their home as pressurized equipment exploded. Their telepathic link flickered back into life as the magnetic emissions from the explosion faded. Jejomar could hear bursts of conversation, cries for help and screams of pain as the link was re-established. He called out with his mind. ¡°Where is Dakila and the children? Has anyone seen the transporter?¡± But no-one could locate them. Jejomar clung onto the hope that they were safely inside the lava tunnels, beyond the range of their telepathic cries.


    Dust hung in the vacuum from the explosion, slowly drifting back to the surface. Small bits of debris that had been blasted into the sky fell back to the surface like dry leaves in the low gravity. Then the storage containers of helium3 exploded. Jejomar felt like time had stopped. The next horror seemed to unfold in slow motion. The helium3 stockpile was kept outside the moon-base in compressed liquid form. Stored in hundreds of cannisters like large thermos containers awaiting delivery to Earth. The cannisters were blown away horizontally across the surface, igniting as they went. Each one exploding in a mini fireball, tumbling across the flat plain of Mare Serenitatis, and quickly burning out as their concentrated fuel was expended in hundreds of searing hot flares. Jejomar watched a single container scream towards him like a guided missile, centimetres above the surface. It hit a rock in front of him and was catapulted over his head, narrowly missing his helmet. He turned in time to see the somersaulting cannister explode as it smashed into the surface. The momentum sending it spinning out across the regolith, spouting bursts of short-lived fire. He could feel more telepathic connections severed as his brothers and sisters were caught by the flying cannisters. He looked down at the rock in front of him and realised how lucky he had been. He reached out and touched Ojerime, just to make sure she was still there, not trusting his senses anymore and reassured by the physical connection. Their telepathic space was filled with more screams of alarm and cries of pain.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    They slowly regrouped and did what they could to help the injured. Jejomar sent out increasingly frantic enquiries about Dakila and the transporter full of children, but there was still no news. Ojerime made a personal connection as they toiled in the dust. ¡°It was the same shuttle Lago used. Jejomar, it was a suicide bomber, a kamikaze. It must have been a revenge attack for the human Dakila killed.¡±


    Jejomar¡¯s anger was building as he dragged dead Masama away from the blast zone. He was already contemplating retaliation. He suspected Ojerime was correct, this was an emotional, suicidal, act of revenge for the killing of the human Christophe. Since they had left, Jejomar had not thought about the man or his ludicrous proposal that had resulted in his death. The idea of turning the Moon into a tourist attraction for wealthy humans was worse than ridiculous, it was insulting. During that conversation with Christophe, Jejomar could sense Dakila was close to violence. He told him not to lash out, but Dakila had acted on his instincts when he had cut the man¡¯s head off and Jejomar could not stop him.


    Dakila had lost control of himself, but Jejomar agreed with his motives. They had to show that the Masama would not be taken advantage of. Ever again. They would not be exploited, and they were not for sale. Killing Christophe was an example, to ensure other humans would not try something similar. To keep them away from the Moon. Jejomar had also been glad just to have the annoying little man shut up. As he worked in the dust, helping the injured and dead Masama, Jejomar suspected Ojerime was right. This disaster was revenge for killing the human. In hindsight, decapitating him was an overreaction. But it had been done and these were the consequences.


    He had to find his daughter. He reached out to try to connect with Dakila again but still could not locate him. He left the wounded and the dead and ran around the circumference of the blast zone. Dodging chunks of burnt twisted metal and clusters of Masama helping the wounded. He reached the track from the moon-base to the mountain and finally, he detected a weak signal from Dakila, injured but alive. He raced through the dust towards the signal. Dakila had been thrown a few metres from the transporter. His legs had been blown off and the bloody stumps were freezing into the ground. What was left of his exo-suit had sealed and his helmet was circulating the remaining oxygen. Dakila was barely alive, but he held onto a shred of consciousness. Jejomar stared at the transporter in horror, unwilling to accept what he was seeing.


    ¡°The transporter, destroyed. Jejomar, the children.¡±


    Behind Dakila was the remains of the transporter. It had been hit by the severed wing of the shuttle and was completely destroyed. The wing had scythed through the machine on an angle. Smashing through the passenger compartment and into the driver¡¯s seat. There had been an explosion, blowing the remains of the machine apart. Jejomar frantically searched through the burnt, twisted metal. The children were too small for exo-suits, they had no protection. He realised they couldn¡¯t have survived this carnage. He found an infant¡¯s car seat, amazingly still intact but empty. It was stained with blood. His daughter¡¯s blood. He found some recognisable remains of Bulan with the other children. Jejomar stood there amidst the carnage, motionless, cradling his dead daughter. Feeling nothing but devastating grief, and boiling rage.


    ***


    Ojerime found him but could not connect. There was nothing to say. No words could comfort him. She put her arms around Jejomar and the remains of Bulan and she wept with him. Around them the dust was settling, the whole destructive sequence from the shuttle appearing to the collision with the moon-base had only taken seconds. What was left was a lifetime of devastation. There was nothing left of the moon-base, only a shallow crater littered with debris. Everything had been destroyed, leaving a quiet, dusty bowl, as if the collection of domes had never existed. Ojerime¡¯s home was even more precious because it was so fragile. On Earth, their houses were just a place to sleep and eat, here on the Moon they were the difference between life and death. Many Masama were dead, but Ojerime thought of the green room. The lush, oxygen rich, carbon-devouring vegetables were a symbol of their ingenuity and adaptability. All gone, vapourised in an instant.


    A transporter arrived to take them to the lava tunnels. Ojerime secured the unconscious Dakila and went back to help Jejomar. He was still standing amidst the wreckage, head bowed, unmoving, holding the broken little body of Bulan in his arms. She began the awful task of finding the remains of the other children. Her compound eyes wept as she retrieved their frozen, mangled bodies and took them back to the transporter where she wrapped them in foil. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. None of the children were hers, but they had been raised by the Masama community and she knew and loved them all. She couldn¡¯t find all of them. She stopped searching, paralysed by grief, and looked up at the bright blue Earth above. The view was the same as always, but Ojerime felt a twist of revulsion and hatred as she stared at the Earth. She couldn¡¯t blame the entire planet for what had happened. Could she?


    Ojerime eventually coaxed Jejomar back into the waiting transporter with the help of Kurzawa, the driver. He remained silent. There was nothing to say. She circled him in their telepathic space, a black hole of despair. They arrived at the lava tunnels of Montes Haemus where the Masama had been renovating the biggest tunnel with the intention to live there. Caverns had been sealed but they were not properly habitable yet. Injured Masama lay on the rocky floor, tended by the able-bodied survivors. Luckily, they had relocated their biggest 3D printer and several smaller ones, already busy manufacturing urgent supplies.


    They put the dead in one small airless cavern. Stripped of their exo-suits, wrapped in foil. There were fourteen bodies, including five smaller parcels, the remains of the children. But more bodies were arriving as the transporters delivered the last of the living, the injured and the dead. Ojerime helped where she could. There was a dark silence in the telepathic space as the survivors dealt with the tragedies. The caverns were busy with hastily installed medical facilities for the wounded, operating tables, and sterile surgical equipment on the bare rock. The dead would all be recycled, including the children. That was the way of life on the Moon. All matter and energy would continue in some form. The dead Masama would be utilized to help the rest of them survive.


    Ojerime followed Jejomar, unnerved by his silence. She did not know how to even attempt to offer comfort. She placed her hand on his shoulder as he held on to the little foil bundle and watched his people. They walked through the tunnels. Ojerime could sense the collective angry confusion, like an oppressive cloud of dread that filled the dark spaces. She should stay with Jejomar. She followed him into the airless cavern where he laid his daughter to rest. He lingered there, counting the dead, then turned and embraced Ojerime. Their titanium suits made it awkward but inside Ojerime could sense Jejomar¡¯s mind returning from the dark spaces it had been.


    ¡°My daughter is dead and any contentment I had died with her. Many of our people are dead, our friends and relatives.¡± Jejomar stopped as another body was bought in. ¡°The humans will pay. I will have revenge.¡±

 Chapter 7

    Ava woke at dawn to the sound of crying Baby and the sweet, cloying smell of the fermenting trash and burning plastic. The constant noise of Manila¡¯s eternally deadlocked traffic rumbled in the background. She rolled over, kicked the rat bat away, picked up a porcelain teacup, uncorked the pipe and groaned when only a dribble of water came out. She would have to have a look at the aqueduct later, but in the meantime, she had half a bottle of cola to feed Baby. She looked through the windows at the gulls above, hundreds of them circling and squawking. She wondered if today one of the gulls would land a shit on her head, it was supposed to be good luck. She gazed out over the trash as Baby guzzled the cola. Smokey Mountain looked the same as ever, a humid grey smog layer hovered above the piles of trash, trapping the heat and the smell. Sometimes, when the wind picked up, she had a glimpse of the blue sky.


    They had made the rusty old bus comfortable, lucky to have been the first to find it. The bulldozers had shunted it up the side of the mountain and rolled it on its side. The gang had renovated the bus, dragging old mattresses and tarpaulins in to sleep on and decorating the walls with bright tapestries and posters of people they didn¡¯t know. Plenty of room for sixteen of them. For Ava, this place was home. Her earliest memories were of crawling around the shifting piles of trash looking for treasures. She didn¡¯t know how old she was, eleven, maybe twelve. She didn¡¯t care. Time was meaningless here. Smokey Mountain was their home and like every good home, it provided. Ava liked statues, designer footwear and bright clothes. She liked cigarettes, sanitary wipes, bottled water, toothpaste, toilet paper and rocks. All things that could be found in varying states of repair on the mountain.


    Ava checked her prized possessions. Statues, crosses, pictures and paintings. She did not know why the crosses had a sad, skinny man nailed there, maybe he had committed some horrible crime and was paying for it in the worst possible way. She liked the statues of the woman holding the baby, fantasising it was her mother. Ava would gaze at the woman¡¯s sad eyes and wonder about her name and her story. Ronaldo said it was a statue of Mother Mary, whoever that might be. She also loved to collect rocks. Real rocks were a rarity on Smokey Mountain where almost everything was manufactured rubbish, so finding a hard piece of rock was a treasure. When Ava found one, she would clean it, polish it, turn it over in her hands, wondering about its origins and history. This rock had existed for millions of years and would outlive them all by millions more. She had collected a big pile in a corner of the bus. The Metalheads called her crazy, but rocks were good for lots of things including throwing at the heads of unwelcome strangers.


    She often wondered about her mother, who must have abandoned her as a baby and thrown her out with the trash years ago. She loved her, missed her, and hated her all at the same time. Ava understood she would never know her mother, but it didn¡¯t matter. She could look after herself. She was short, but she was strong. She had won lots of fights with cool karate moves. She hadn¡¯t started growing breasts yet and hopefully she never would. She couldn¡¯t see the point of having them. The Metalheads were her family, they had raised her, fed her, and taught her, and now she was one of the leaders. They were all abandoned children or runaways who had made a life on the mountain, it was the only life she had ever known. Her tummy rumbled, she grabbed the flat cola from the baby, drained the last few drops and put her prized Nike trainers on.


    ¡°Ava! Check out my new boot!¡± Messi held the big white gumboot up in the air like a trophy. ¡°It¡¯s got a steel cap! I¡¯m going to kick Neymar in the balls.¡± Messi put the boot on his right foot, it was way too big for him, the top of the boot covering his skinny leg. He did a victory dance on top of a trash pile but tripped himself up and ended up in a heap at their feet. Footwear was the most important item of clothing; you wouldn¡¯t last long walking over the trash in bare feet so finding a gumboot was a good score. Ava¡¯s Nikes were getting too small, but she couldn¡¯t bear to hand them on, they were so cool.


    ¡°You better grow some balls of your own before you go after mine, you little shit,¡± said Neymar.


    Ava laughed and munched on the brown banana she had found in a pocket, stuffing pieces of it into Baby¡¯s mouth as it gurgled in the sling. ¡°Come on Metalheads,¡± she said as she grabbed her rat bat. ¡°There¡¯s supposed to be fresh trash over west side, time to make some money. Let¡¯s fix up the aqueduct on the way. Here Neymar, you take Baby.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want Baby,¡± said Neymar. ¡°He can¡¯t even walk or talk, and he smells funny.¡±


    ¡°You were a baby once and I¡¯m a better scavenger than you will ever be. You want cold cola from the mercado later? You take Baby or I¡¯ll karate kick your ass.¡±


    Neymar groaned and took Baby as Ronaldo led the way over the trash. Smokey Mountain provided as much useless rubbish they could ever want, but every day was a mission to find fresh food and clean water. Ava had rigged up aqueducts that ran from catchments at the top of the trash piles. Whenever it rained, the buckets and plastic drums would fill up and the water would run down a network of hoses, pipes, corrugated iron and old plastic gutters to bathtubs and buckets on top of the bus. It wasn¡¯t the cleanest water but there was nothing like having a bus top bath with some scavenged soap. Ava was experimenting with little hydro powered dynamos that could power electric lights and even a television screen. The water levels were only high enough to power the dynamos in monsoon season, the perfect time to watch TV when it did nothing but rain outside.


    The Metalheads climbed up the trash piles fixing the leaky aqueducts as they went. The pipes and gutters were forever getting pushed out of alignment by the shifting mounds of trash. They poked through the rubble with their rat bats checking for anything valuable underfoot. They did this every day, picking through the rubbish, foraging for metal to take to the scrap dealers and earn a few pesos. Ava liked having a routine, it was good to have things to do, kept you out of trouble.


    She knew the landscape of the sprawling Smokey Mountain like the back of her hand. She knew the best places to find quality trash and she knew all the other child gangs in the neighbourhood. Some were dangerous, some were just dumb. The Malandi, or delinquents, were their closest neighbours operating in the same area. They sometimes traded with them and sometimes fought them. The Bunso, or the youngest, were all under six years old but they were vicious little bastards and not to be messed with. The Bostik boys were bad waster glue heads, always covered in rat bites because they were half asleep all the time and too fucked up to notice the rats chewing on their toes. The young Dugo¡¯s, prospects for an adult criminal gang, who were excellent thieves. And the jumper boys who lived on the mountain but spent their days jumping from traffic bridges onto moving trucks to see what they could pilfer.


    The Metalheads had drifted together out of necessity, if they were a family then Ava was the mother. Many didn¡¯t arrive with names, so Ava gave them names from a tatty old football album she had found and taught herself to read a few words. There were thousands of children and adults living on Smokey Mountain doing the same thing, digging for treasure, bits of shiny steel, computer hardware, aluminium and competing for the biggest prizes, bronze, and copper. The Metalheads all wore dirty bandanas over their faces to protect them from the toxic smoke of wire fires, and they had old, cracked motorbike helmets held together with shiny silver duct tape. Ava had discovered crates of the dumped silver tape one day and they used it everywhere. Most of their clothing, footwear and even their bus was held together with the tape. Their numbers fluctuated between ten and twenty, the older ones, once they got to thirteen or fourteen like Neymar tended to move up to proper criminal street gangs, eventually ending up dead or in jail but there were always abandoned babies to raise and keep the numbers steady. Ava didn¡¯t like to think about the past, but she didn¡¯t think about the future either because she just couldn¡¯t see one.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    They got to the top of a crumbling ridge to view the fresh load of dumped rubbish. ¡°Shit,¡± said Ronaldo. ¡°The Malandi beat us to it.¡±


    Ava had traded with the Malandi, exchanging water for food. She viewed them with suspicion as they sifted through the fresh trash pile.


    ¡°Oi! Malandi! Anything good?¡± yelled Ronaldo.


    ¡°Fuck off and find your own trash,¡± came the reply.


    Undeterred, the Metalheads clambered down the slope and began sifting around the edges. It soon became obvious there was nothing of value, the Malandi had already pilfered the good stuff.


    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± said Ronaldo pointing to a giant, stinking grey pile of sludge. It looked like a dirty iceberg.


    Messi scampered over and grabbed a big lumpy handful of it, held it up, had a sniff, screwed up his face and threw it away in disgust. ¡°Stinky!¡± he yelled.


    ¡°It¡¯s a fatberg, I¡¯ve heard about these,¡± said Neymar, who had encyclopaedic knowledge of every type of trash on the mountain. ¡°All the people that live in houses wash their fatty shit down into the sewers and it clots up into these giant bergs. They get so big they have to dig them out because they block their drains, and they end up here.¡± Neymar looked on in wonder, then his eyes narrowed with devious thoughts. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea.¡±


    They broke off as much of the fatberg as they could into containers and crept through the trash to a vantage point overlooking the Malandi. Getting into position, they giggled nervously, as they waited for the signal. Ava scooped up a handful of the fatberg and had a closer look. It was revolting. Like squishy, fatty soap, but full of hair, dead flies, and other rotten food scraps. It was disgusting and it stank like sewage and rancid fat. She stood up and addressed the Malandi.


    ¡°Oi! You better share your shit, or you¡¯ll be sorry.¡±


    ¡°We told you to fuck off,¡± came the reply.


    ¡°Ok have it your way,¡± said Ava. Then she yelled, ¡°attack!¡± The Metalheads all stood up and started pelting their rivals with stinking hairy clumps of fatberg. They had plenty of ammunition and the Malandi were soon covered with the congealing sludge. The Malandi hurled some debris back at them but found it hard to be combative and soon lost their appetite for the fight, they began to retreat looking like filthy, dripping snowmen. Ava led the Metalheads down the slope unleashing all their fatberg armoury on the fleeing Malandi, laughing, and slipping on the soapy fat as they went. They claimed the fresh trash pile as their own and sat down, a grinning victorious army enjoying their spoils.


    They found some treasures, boxes of broken laptops with valuable circuit boards. There were people living on the mountain in clandestine hacking labs who would buy these and cobble together their own computer networks. Lots of plastic-coated wire for burning, magazines to be flicked through with pictures of happy looking clean white people with white teeth, some broken toys and even a bag of half-eaten chicken skewers for lunch. The gang started several small fires and squatted with bandanas over their faces watching the plastic melt.


    Once the wire cooled and was rolled into coils Ava, Ronaldo and Neymar grabbed their rat bats and began the perilous journey to the scrap dealer. Carrying valuable goods like this made them open targets. You could get mugged for a few strands of wire, stabbed for a morsel of food, murdered for no reason at all. Sometimes kids would just disappear without a trace. The Metalheads took turns watching out for the government death squads that would occasionally sweep through the mountain shooting children and adults and leaving the bodies there to rot. The Metalheads didn¡¯t know why, they understood these soldiers were the enemy. They all had good hiding places when the death squads showed up.


    The young Dugo¡¯s were patrolling the entrance to the scrap dealer looking to rob anyone on their way in or out. Ava, Ronaldo, and Neymar pushed under a hole in the fence to do their deal and left the same way with a hundred-peso bill to spend. They always went through the haggling ritual with the scrap dealer although they never got more than a hundred peso from the good-natured scrap man. They walked towards the market with a swagger.


    ¡°I¡¯m rich! You should run away with me Ava,¡± said Neymar. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you a big house with a bath and a bed and chickens and we could go out dancing every night.¡±


    ¡°I would love to Neymar, but you are useless at dancing, you dance like a chicken!¡± Ava started running round in circles flapping her arms making chicken noises.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care, I¡¯m rich! I¡¯ll dance any way I want,¡± laughed Neymar.


    ¡°Guys cool it, it¡¯s the po-po,¡± muttered Ronaldo pointing to some uniformed officers patrolling the street ahead with a big black utility vehicle rumbling behind them. They melted into the crowd; not in any danger, but it paid not to attract any attention to yourself when the police were cruising the neighbourhood. They scavenged the biggest cigarette butts they could find and blew smoke rings over each other as they walked to the market, trying not to cough.


    Ava loved the market, they walked through the clothing section marvelling at the beautiful multicoloured linen and the American style t-shirts, baseball jackets and trucker caps. The electronics section with the amazing smart toys, gadgets, phones and augments and the food section which you could smell long before you could see it. All kinds of sweet, salty, and spicy morsels being roasted over hot coals, fresh fruit, and vegetables of all shapes and sizes, and pungent herbs and spices. Rows of live critters in cages and even a few fish tanks with crabs and lobsters. They bought a few bottles of water, some coca cola, and a bottle of palapa sauce. They did a deal with some jumper boys for a bag of rice and that was their hundred pesos gone.


    ¡°Guess you can take me out dancing some other time,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°I would rather take her out dancing,¡± said Neymar pointing to a glowing neon billboard of a supermodel on the side of a building gesturing seductively at them.


    ¡°In your dreams chicken boy, hey speaking of chicken, check it out.¡± Ava had spotted a feral, featherless chicken with one leg poking around some boxes behind a stall. ¡°It must have escaped, no-one¡¯s noticed, let¡¯s get it.¡±


    ¡°I feel like chicken tonight,¡± sang Neymar.


    ¡°Yeah, c¡¯mon let¡¯s get it,¡± said Ronaldo and they crept up on the unsuspecting poultry, trying to surround their prey. The chicken seemed to realise the danger it was in and eyeballed them fearfully. Neymar made a lunge, but the mangy bird avoided his grasp, squawking and losing its last few feathers. It flapped wildly but barely got off the ground. Ava dove at its one remaining leg; she got a face full of dirt as the bird desperately tried to escape but flapped straight into Ronaldo¡¯s arms. The gleeful look on his face said it all as they raced off with their prize. They ran to the outskirts of the market, dodging the shoppers and stalls, but then Ronaldo tripped on a cobblestone and the chicken was free again.


    It hopped off into traffic, squawking manically and only narrowly avoiding the slow-moving motorbikes as it crossed the road. Luckily, the vehicles were barely moving as they gave chase, furious moped riders shaking their fists and angry taxi drivers honking at them as they raced through the traffic. The one-legged chicken moved surprisingly fast, and they lost it in the swarming traffic. Ava thought she saw it nearing the other side of the road and gave chase, she caught a glimpse of it disappearing under a big black car. She was so intent on capturing her prize she didn¡¯t notice the dark suited men standing around the vehicle. One of them grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off her feet, bringing her to eye level. Ava could see her own reflection in the man¡¯s AR glasses before a big, gloved hand clamped over her mouth. She screamed and tried to bite his hand, but found herself being bundled roughly into the back of the vehicle. She wriggled and kicked out at the burly men, trying to punch, kick or bite anything that came close. Then something slapped her hard and she fell into aching unconsciousness.

 Chapter 8.

    Jejomar strode among ranks of kamikaze drones on the launch pad. A wartime commander inspecting his troops. The specifications on each drone scrolled down his lens as he stalked past. They were all identical, flying bombs with little brains. Mass produced by a specialised 3D printer that was itself a creation of a bigger printer. A swarm of spherical, black titanium balls with a diamond warhead at one end and four boosters at the other. Each one powered with a mini helium3 fusion reactor. With a thought, Jejomar changed the view in his lens so he could see the entire swarm. Four hundred beautiful deadly drones, waiting in formation, ready for their orders.


    He stood by himself out in the Sea of Serenity, surrounded by the drones. Any evidence the moon-base ever existed had disappeared, all the debris had been cleaned up, fed into the kilns, and recycled. The bodies were decompiling, along with all the other bio-waste. There was nothing left but a shallow crater and some dark stains on the regolith to remind him of his loss. The grief still burned inside him. He had devoted himself to these plans of revenge ever since. It had become an obsession and it had partially filled the black hole in his heart.   He walked back to where the others were waiting, exo-suits gleaming in the sterile light.


    ¡°Will it be enough?¡± Jejomar sent his telepathic question to Dakila. Dakila had lost his legs when the shuttle¡¯s wing crashed into the transporter and only barely survived the trauma and blood loss, but he had recovered and had been upgraded. His legs had been replaced with six articulated, mechanical limbs. Dakila¡¯s torso sat upright like a centaur, he bounced lightly on his limbs as he inspected one of the drones he had designed. Their production had been quick. Assisted by the cloud of tiny manufacturing robots they had been developing. He had been testing them out here on the Sea and he had declared them ready.


    ¡°Four hundred is more than enough; it is overkill Jejomar.¡± Dakila swept one of his lengthy metal limbs over the swarm. ¡°By the time they fly 340 thousand kilometres, when they ignite their boosters, they will be travelling at such a speed they will slice through anything in their way.¡±


    Jejomar nodded and stroked one of the drones like a pet. ¡°They will only live short lives. But we can make more.¡±


    ¡°Each drone carries a thermonuclear fusion bomb ready to detonate on impact, yielding a one-hundred kiloton explosion. Which is small on its own, but we have four hundred of them. The diamond warhead is the most dense carbon allotrope ever created. I think it will be enough, I would like to be there to see the destruction. It will be beautiful.¡±


    Jejomar turned to Dakila, unused to hearing such emotion from the engineer. ¡°We will witness Dakila, it will be as if we are there. The swarm is an extension of the Masama, our arm that reaches out across space.¡±


    Ojerime approached them. She bounded across the regolith in her exo-suit, her limbs retracting and extending with each leap. ¡°It¡¯s an impressive army.¡± She stood to her full height. ¡°These drones could have been used to travel across the Moon, to explore and discover, to help us evolve and grow but instead we are sending them to war. They will sever the ties with our home planet. They will never be recovered or recycled.¡±


    ¡°This is our home, not Earth,¡± sent Jejomar. He gestured at the summit of Montes Haemus, the slopes were covered with solar panels and the summit had been extended and sculpted into a smooth black circular crater with a glinting, grey cloud of tiny machines hovering at the top. ¡°We should be proud of what we have built. Our ties with the Earth have already been severed; we are protecting ourselves. They will not attack us again.¡±


    ¡°I am proud,¡± sent Ojerime. ¡°We have all worked hard. Our new home under the mountain will house generations of Masama. But I have reservations about attacking Earth, we should leave them alone. Revenge is a dangerous motive.¡±


    Jejomar turned to her and moved closer. Ojerime was like a sister to him, she knew him better than most, but her words provoked him, and his temper flared. ¡°My daughter is dead. Twenty-eight of our Masama family also died when we were attacked. But this is more than simple revenge. We are going to confine the humans to their polluted planet, cut off their access to space and protect ourselves.¡±


    ¡°I also mourn for our dead, and I also wanted revenge after the shuttle attack. But if our plan is successful, millions of innocent people will die. We were once like them, we were once human, can you not remember what that was like Jejomar?¡±


    ¡°I remember enough, I remember fighting, killing for no reason, obeying orders I did not understand. I was never treated like a human. We were slaves, we were treated like pakshet¡±. Jejomar did not enjoy recalling the past. There were too many bad memories. But debating with Ojerime gave him the chance to articulate his opinions and justify his actions. ¡°Have you forgotten how Lago tried to have us all sterilized? He experimented on us, manipulated us, lied to us. You heard their plan, to bring those people here, wealthy, entitled tourists that would defecate all over our home. Would you see that happen? Our Moon overrun with obese humans, building hotels, leaving their waste, ruining our pristine home as they have ruined their own planet?¡±


    ¡°Lago is our enemy, not the entire human race.¡±


    Jejomar was confident in his plans. He had the support of the majority and the survival of the Masama was his main concern. Talking about the humans stirred a lurking anger inside him. ¡°None of them are innocent. They will all die eventually. Our intention is purely to keep them Earthbound, so they cannot escape and spread their sickness to the rest of the system. We decided this democratically. Ojerime, we are the future, not them.¡±


    ¡°I agree with everything you have said Jejomar I am just uncomfortable with us assuming such god-like power.¡±


    ¡°We are not pretending to be gods. We are doing what we have to do. The Earth has been ruined by its inhabitants. We are preventing them from ruining anything else. One day, we might go back, once the planet is safe and the infestation of humans has become extinct.¡±


    They stood staring at each other for a second. Jejomar knew that she did not care for the humans, but she didn¡¯t feel the same levels of hatred as he did. They had all lost loved ones and Ojerime was more empathetic than most. He valued her intelligence, and the invaluable support she provided for him. She had been instrumental in organising the Masama exodus to the Moon. While Jejomar had been their spokesperson and leader, making decisions on their behalf, it was always with Ojerime¡¯s advice. The way the Masama communicated now was beyond telepathy. It was easy as looking at someone, projecting an idea in the right direction. Ojerime was smart. She had developed the telepathic implant they had inherited from BPI into an electro-chemical interface with the cerebrum, creating a shared virtual realm for the Masama. Jejomar had happily relinquished any ideas of leadership in exchange for a democratic consensus, group decisions were easy to achieve when everyone was connected in a virtual space. Although they still often relied on him for the casting vote.


    He was convinced they were doing the right thing. Dakila¡¯s decapitation of the annoying man Christophe may have been an instinctive over-reaction that provoked the suicidal shuttle attack, but these kamikaze drones were much more than a simple plan for revenge. It was for the good of the solar system.


    ¡°You are my conscience Ojerime, the voice of reason and a reminder there is still a human heart beating in my chest. But we are on our own in space and we must protect ourselves.  Since the first algae formed, since the first creature crawled from the primordial soup and stood on two legs, the rules of life have always been adapt or die. I am not denying my ancestry, but we have adapted, they will die.


    ¡°Come, it is time,¡± sent Dakila.


    They stood together as the drone swarm was activated. The first drone to rise from the dusty Sea was in the centre of the formation. Slowly and in a perfect configuration, like a sheet being picked up from the centre, the drone swarm ascended smoothly against the Moon¡¯s minimal gravity. They expanded into a giant grid hanging in the sky, then disappeared into the blackness. The Earth hung in the sky like a ripened fruit, glowing with blue, green, and white reflected light.


    ***


    On the viewing deck at the bow of the ferry, the ocean breeze came as light relief from the tropical heat. Ava held on to her cap and looked up at the towering structure that disappeared into the hazy high-altitude clouds. From this angle the elevator cable was a skinny silver thread that bisected the blue sky in two. She followed it down to the base as they drew near. The artificial island in the Bismarck Sea had grown since the orbital elevator had been in operation. As they approached, Ava had caught glimpses through the ocean spray of the floating deep-water port. A two-kilometre-wide circle, catering for everything from speed boats to cruise ships. It was a bustling hive of activity, like city of Port Moresby where they had boarded the ferry. The three of them had flown from Miami in their vertical lift rotor and blended in with the bustling crowds. They were well prepared to confront Lago. Ava was calm, and determined she would not let her emotions get the better of her. She looked up at the Sun and shivered in the heat.


    ¡°It¡¯s impressive,¡± said Noah as Ava returned to her seat.


    ¡°Hundreds of workers died in the construction,¡± said Mahdi. ¡°Filipino and New Guinea labourers were treated like slaves, paid a pittance. It¡¯s hard to get food or water out here, many of them just disappeared with no investigations.¡±


    ¡°It symbolizes Lago perfectly,¡± said Ava. ¡°It¡¯s a giant vanity project. Bigger and better than anyone else but totally impractical.¡±


    ¡°Space elevators are the cheapest and cleanest way to get into orbit,¡± said Noah. ¡°With the current level of technology anyway, and you have to admit, it looks pretty cool.¡±


    ¡°Some people see it as just another form of pollution,¡± said Ava. ¡°Lago lives up there on the asteroid like some self-proclaimed king of Earth, using the elevator to transport his rich friends into space and grow his mining operation. He¡¯s already given up on Earth. He wants to pillage whatever he can get his hands on in space. Anyway, there will be other ways to get into orbit without having to ride this giant fucking phallic symbol.¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± asked Mahdi.


    ¡°Mass drives, impulse drives, laser propulsion, even balloons. Bigger versions of the EM inverter filaments in our suits. And Lucinda has been experimenting with electro-magnetic propulsion used in an anti-gravity engine. It uses Earth''s own gravity against it.¡±


    ¡°Also, slightly more theoretical but not impossible is matter transport,¡± said Noah. ¡°Once we have somewhere to transport the matter to. Our suits are capable though. You could fly into space with one if you had the time.¡±


    ¡°Really? How long would you survive in space wearing one of these?¡± asked Mahdi.


    ¡°Days, maybe weeks. The suit''s skin is more than just camouflage. The mesh fabric reverses the gravity surrounding it and carries currents of smart energy powering the cells. It adapts to the environment, scans for threats, controls temperature, and recycles urine into mineral rich water. You would probably die of boredom before anything else.¡±


    ¡°Great to know I can drink my own piss if I need to,¡± said Mahdi.


    The island had a ten-metre-high BPI logo emblazoned across the dock reminding Ava they were entering enemy territory. They breezed through the layers of security, their stowed suits and hidden E-bombs were disguised and didn¡¯t trouble the scanners. Their forged documentation easily convinced the customs check. The travelator took them straight into the climber reception where they mingled with their fellow passengers.


    Ava adjusted the pink wig under her baseball cap and scanned the crowd. She put her hand on Mahdi¡¯s shoulder and whispered. ¡°We don¡¯t get many chances to use all of our enhancements, but if you need to, you can listen to people¡¯s thoughts. It¡¯s very rude of course and we don¡¯t do it with friends, but in situations like this, just focus on someone and concentrate.¡±


    Mahdi scanned the room, eyeballing the passengers. They were a mixture of BPI technicians in uniform and wealthy business people. His concentrated gaze went from one passenger to another, lingering on each for a few seconds. His brow furrowed, he scowled and began to swear under his breath. ¡°Arrogant, entitled, elitist, fat bastards,¡± he muttered.


    They found their prominence class module and settled in. Ava put on her dark sunglasses, and concentrated on the view. There was no escaping the Sun shining through the huge window.


    ¡°Are you ok?¡± Noah must have sensed her unease.


    ¡°Just being here, on this elevator, in this module makes me feel¡­ I don¡¯t know, dirty, guilty, somehow complicit in Lago¡¯s ideology,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°It was easy enough to hack their system and get this module for free,¡± said Noah. ¡°I can understand if you would rather see Lago dead, but upgrading him, reforming him, will be so much more beneficial, and symbolic, for everyone.¡±


    Ava bowed her head and stayed silent, wrestling with inner demons. Even the mention of his name made her anxious. She was still repulsed by men with facial hair, she was suspicious of men in general. She couldn¡¯t imagine a reformed Lago, but it was a good plan, and she had every intention of sticking to it.


    ***


    Ojerime loved spending time in the virtual realm. She could be anything, anyone, anywhere she wanted to be. Only limited by her imagination, the possibilities were infinite. She had been working on this digital space, taking their ever-present telepathic link to the next level. Today, the realm was one of the calderas at the summit of Olympus Mons. The red plains of Mars rolled out towards distant horizons, kilometres beneath them. Masama avatars moved around the caldera, they could take on any form they chose. Ojerime watched a bleached skull conversing with a cloud of gas, there was an octopus, a giant tumbleweed, various creatures, ships, circling comets, and weapons. Ojerime¡¯s current avatar was a metal owl perched on a rock. She tracked dust storms rampaging across the lowlands, battering the Tharsis bulge, swivelling her head all the way around.


    She picked at the rock with a claw and studied the detail. Her eyes widened, pleased with the clarity of the simulation. The only language that was needed in the virtual space was the language of thought which included words, symbols, equations, emotions, colours, entire hypotheses, and belief systems. The architecture was a product of their shared aesthetics and changed constantly, only limited by their imagination. Ojerime could tune into the virtual realm and operate in the real world at the same time. She could happily spend all her time in the virtual realm but at the moment, everyone was under the mountain, watching the projection.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    There were over one hundred Masama in the central tunnel. The tunnel had fresh air circulating so Ojerime disconnected her faceplate and looked around. Her compound eyes allowed her to see in multiple directions at once, with a wider scope than the primitive eyes she had been born with. Just one of her many upgrades, but one she was particularly pleased with. It was rare for all her brothers and sisters to be gathered in one space like this, it made her feel more claustrophobic than usual. They were watching a 3-D projection displayed above and around them. They did not really need a projection, they could individually patch into the drone feed, but Jejomar had a sense of occasion. The tunnel echoed with noise, whirring, and clicking of articulated limbs, metal on metal and the hum of machines. She could sense the anticipation as they watched the projection. She found Jejomar and Dakila across the room. ¡°How long before they are in range?¡± she asked Dakila.


    ¡°A matter of minutes, the swarm has been travelling at twenty-five thousand kilometres per hour. They will soon burn their remaining fuel to achieve attack velocity of thirty-five to forty thousand.¡±


    The projected view was from several drones sent to record the images from the best vantage points and relay them back to the Moon. The Earth was growing larger by the second, soon filling the cavernous projection space above them. Ojerime could see the elevator cable, a shiny silver thread glinting in the sunlight, and she could make out the asteroid hub, a black nugget silhouetted at the top of the thread. The swarm was close, the asteroid must have been alerted to their presence but there was nothing they could do.


    Ojerime¡¯s compound eyes did not blink. She took in all the details at high speed. The drones screamed past the asteroid hub; the swarm had stretched out into a thin tapering arrowhead shape with the lead drone in front. The asteroid launched a few defence drones, but they were useless against the onslaught. Two shuttles were stationed in front with no obvious weapons. They floated there, immobile, and impotent as the swarm flew past. Ojerime could see tiny flames from the booster rockets as the drone formation hit maximum speed. The first drone slammed into the cable and vanished in an incandescent flash that disappeared in an instant.


    A window opened giving a slow-motion close-up view of the destruction. Ojerime clenched her fists, she couldn¡¯t help thinking of all the people that were about to die. Numbers scrolled in the space above giving the speed and status of each drone as they smashed into the cable, one after another, booster rockets giving them a final burst of acceleration before they disappeared in a nuclear flare. The diamond warheads pierced the cable, embedding the drones and immediately exploding in a barrage of short, sharp fireballs. The violent flashes evaporated as quickly as they had appeared, the blasts swallowed by the vacuum. The cable shook and vibrated but the centrifugal tensions in the cable seemed to be holding it. Drone after suicidal drone hurled themselves at it but the flimsy looking cable stayed intact. Then just as Ojerime thought the cable might survive the onslaught, a small tear appeared, then it was all over.


    The last wave of kamikaze drones smashed through the remaining strands of cable, and then it was severed. The attack had required almost all the drones, Dakila had under-estimated the strength of the carbon fibre cable but ultimately it had been enough. Ojerime took a deep breath of stale air. She was one of the few that had argued against this attack, but she had been outvoted. She felt empty, resigned to the fact that millions of humans would die as the cable fell back to Earth. The last few drones swept through the gap, flying through the fading nuclear flashes towards the solar farm, easily destroying the fragile frames and solar sails. The mission was completed but the death and destruction was only beginning for the people of Earth. As she watched, the cable wobbled, then began to fall away from the asteroid above, gathering speed as it fell. The climber car was still ascending towards the severed end as it started to fall, gracefully drifting back to Earth leaving the asteroid with a segment of useless cable dangling from it like a tail.


    ¡°Congratulations,¡± she sent to Jejomar. ¡°Mission successful.¡±


    ¡°We have achieved our goal. We have crippled our opponent and ensured they remain Earthbound. We are safe. We have protected ourselves against the people of Earth,¡± sent Jejomar.


    Ojerime sent a neutral recognition and returned to the virtual realm. She had no love for the people of Earth but sometimes she needed to question Jejomar. The decision to attack the cable had been democratic. There was debate, but ultimately everyone agreed cutting their cable was the best course of action, halting Lago¡¯s access to space. Attacking the asteroid directly would have been futile as it was a solid lump of iron ore. Its mass alone provided enough protection from the kamikaze drones. Ojerime argued against the decision.  The falling cable would cause mass destruction and innocent deaths, but in the end, it was a democratic consensus.


    She could feel the weight of guilt, of being complicit in the deaths of millions. She found it difficult to remove herself from responsibility as the rest of the Masama had. Unlike them she still felt a connection to the people of Earth. She couldn¡¯t deny her ancestry. The main difference between humans and the Masama was something as simple as rubbish. The Masama recycled everything. There was no wastage, every unused nut or bolt or metal scrap was fed into the solar kilns. Every gas or liquid by product was stored or converted to another usable form. Every gram of biological waste was fed into the compost and the decompilers and converted to soil or fertilizers. The Masama obeyed the laws of recycling with obsessive fastidity. Nothing was wasted, unlike the humans who had poisoned their planet with their own excess. She looked out over the red plains of Mars and sighed, the Masama should be evolving out into the solar system and beyond. Not picking fights with the people of Earth.


    ***


    Ava never properly slept. When she closed her eyes, she fell into a deep meditative state in which the IA recalibrated her body. It manufactured melatonin, regenerated cells, and washed away neural toxins. Her brain fell silent, letting her tune out the external world. Her body and mind had been through a lot of healing in this state. She was scared of deep sleep. If she let herself go too deep she would always end up immersed in nightmarish dreams of sharp knives, operating tables, the burning Sun, and his face. She would wake up sweating, in a state of panic, trying to wipe the blood away. The IA inside her repaired what it could, but it couldn¡¯t rebuild what had been taken. Her memories were fragmented images that she was still trying to piece together. Lago was there, haunting her dreams. Ava understood it would be better for everyone, better for the planet if Lago was changed, transformed with the E-bomb as she had transformed the corrupt billionaires in Las Vegas. This was their plan, and she had every intention of sticking to it. But deep down she wanted Lago dead. She didn¡¯t know if she was capable of actually killing him, but she wanted him dead.


    She sat up, wide awake at the first impact and sensation of the gravity shifting. ¡°Suits!¡± she screamed the psychic alarm at her companions and within seconds her suit was wrapping itself around her body. The face mask folded around Ava¡¯s head like cool cling film, bulging over her eyes and connecting two breathing tubes to her nose. She arrived in the foyer of their module at the same time as Noah and Mahdi. Electric alarms began screaming as the module floor began to tilt and she could feel her weight lessen.


    ¡°The cable must have been severed,¡± she yelled. ¡°We are under attack!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re falling back to Earth. We¡¯ll either burn up in the atmosphere or hit the surface,¡± yelled Mahdi above the alarm.


    ¡°If we get through the atmosphere the suits will save us, as long as the power cells last. But we have to get out of the climber. We don¡¯t want to be in here when it hits,¡± shouted Noah.


    ¡°Can we help any of the passengers? There¡¯s two hundred people on board,¡± yelled Ava. The module was tilting and the view from the window was terrifying as they fell from the black sky into the huge hazy Earth atmosphere rising up to meet them. Ava activated her suit stabilizers as the rate of freefall caused complete weightlessness, they held hands as they started floating.


    ¡°We can¡¯t help them,¡± shouted Noah. ¡°We could carry one each, but we can¡¯t save everyone.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡± screamed Mahdi. ¡°There must be something we can do!¡±


    The view tilted even more; Ava could see the cable stretching out beneath them as the Earth¡¯s rotation dragged them down towards the horizontal. The cable disappeared into the mesosphere and glowed red before it started burning. Ava knew there was no chance of disconnecting the climber from the cable or saving any passengers, even if they managed to get to the lower levels, it would be too late. All they could do was hold on and try not to panic as they fell faster.


    The climber was dragged back to Earth at an ever-increasing speed. It appeared as if the red fiery glow was creeping up the cable, closer every second. The climber started shaking violently and Ava watched pieces break free as the roar of atmospheric entry drowned out the alarm. She tried to stay calm, her mind was whirring, calculating their chances of freefall. The temperature was rising and all she could see was vapour and debris screaming past the window before cracks appeared and the window splintered, then exploded as a piece of bulkhead flew through and crashed into Mahdi, sending him flying. Ava backed away from the turbulence as shards of broken window and other shrapnel swirled viciously. She held onto the door as the hot roaring chaos enveloped her, overwhelming her. She lost control and even her suit could not stop her smashing into the module wall where she was trapped by the immense G-force. Shards of shrapnel pinged off her suit as she struggled to gain control. She lost sight of her companions, lost sight of everything, she was being roasted alive in a blast furnace. Everything was shaking and the heat was extreme, she was sure the entire structure would disintegrate, and they would all burn up together, falling back to Earth as ashes.


    Then the fire was gone, the intense heat dissipated, and she opened her eyes. Her suit was smoking but she was alive. She clawed her way back across the sloping floor and found Noah clinging on to the limp form of Mahdi. The howling roar was even louder as the air whipped through the shattered climber. The cable fell through the stratosphere leaving a trail of debris and dark vapour. She crawled towards them, it looked like Mahdi was unconscious. The roaring jet-stream drowned out all her thoughts. Noah pointed at the shattered window opening, Ava nodded back, and together they dragged Mahdi¡¯s unresponsive body in that direction.


    What was left of the climber was still attached to the horizontal cable. Ava was dazed and seemed to have lost all sense of spatial awareness until her suit stabilized her. They crawled across the module wall, she could see the horizon and the curve of the Earth through the smashed window below. The roaring was so loud she used her psychic link to talk to Noah. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to jump out the window!¡±


    Noah nodded and pointed. ¡°We¡¯ll have to support Mahdi. If we can get to the edge and push away into the slipstream, hopefully we won¡¯t smash into anything.¡±


    Ava nodded and tried to get herself into position on one side of Mahdi. The shredded climber was shaking violently and felt like it was about to disintegrate at any moment. They edged closer to the window, the air roared through the opening like a jet engine, pushing them back inside. More chunks of wreckage whipped past, pieces of the climber structure and its contents including passengers, some of them still strapped to their seats, some leaving bloody trails of red streamers, some still smoking from the friction of atmospheric entry. Ava couldn¡¯t help any of them. They reached the window edge and manoeuvred into a position where each had an arm around Mahdi and could kick off out into the howling winds. Ava had time to look out at the approaching Earth as she tightened her grip.


    ¡°Now!¡± shouted Noah as they leaped out into the air and were swept away by the slipstream, luckily avoiding any climber fragments. Ava held on to Mahdi as they were blown back up into space, tumbling uncontrollably before her suit wrestled her into position. They wrapped their arms around Mahdi and rolled into a freefall pose. Arms and legs spread as they started to fall to Earth.


    Below them was an apocalyptic scene. The cable had been broken into long ragged strands trailing plumes of vapour as the flames were blown away by its descent. The climber was a skeletal ruin, still attached to a piece of cable. The outer layers had been burnt away, the intense heat melting the hull and vaporizing all the windows, the opulence class modules were still partially intact but large structural pieces were being torn away. Ava watched the strands of cable falling across the equator, each piece thousands of kilometres long. She could only wonder at the death and devastation they would cause and there was nothing she could do to help anyone. As they punched through the clouds, Ava could see a gigantic strand which looked like it was going to fall across the entire Indian Ocean. More strands were drifting westward toward Somalia and below them, Singapore, Malaysia, and the Indonesian islands were in the firing line.


    Around her, Ava could see the bodies of broken people falling. They froze in the sub-zero temperatures, suffocating and solidifying at the same time. Falling amongst the debris, expressions of pain and terror etched onto their faces. Their crushed and contorted bodies were stained red, bloodied torsos and limbs torn apart by the hail of shrapnel. She cried out behind her face mask, she had never felt so helpless, confronted with such devastation. Ava focused on a body falling past them. It was a woman; her legs were kicking, she looked alive. ¡°I¡¯m going to help her, hold on to Mahdi,¡± Ava sent, and she pushed away towards the woman.


    ¡°Wait!¡± she heard Noah cry, but Ava was determined to help someone. She was already gaining speed as the suit propelled her down towards the woman. She flattened into a streamlined plunge and dove through the air. Within seconds she was slowing the suit and preparing to embrace the woman. They connected and she wrapped her arms and legs around the woman and could feel her weight as the suit slowed their fall. She was alive, she was wearing a thermal suit and an oxygen mask from the climber, but she was freezing cold. Above the roar of rushing air Ava could hear a baby screaming, and was amazed to find an infant inside the suit, clutched to the woman¡¯s chest, sharing her oxygen.


    ¡°It¡¯s ok, I¡¯ve got you, you¡¯re both safe,¡± she yelled. Ava slowed their rate of descent even more with the suit¡¯s gravity inverter as they descended through the clouds feet first. Over her shoulder she could see Noah holding Mahdi at a similar level.


    Ava looked down to see the first piece of cable hit the Earth. It fell across Kalimantan, the Java Sea, Sumatra and out into the Indian Ocean like a giant lash. She could see dust clouds rising where the cable hit the land. Across the Java Sea she could make out a line of steaming white water where it had slapped the surface. It didn¡¯t sink, held up at either end by the land masses like a giant suspension bridge, but the impact caused a tsunami wave that raced north towards Singapore and south towards Jakarta. The rest of the cable and several other lengths landed simultaneously across the Indian Ocean. They caused a huge horizontal liquid eruption across the sea from Sumatra to Somalia. The impact was obscured by swathes of steam that burst into the sky as the superheated cable hit the sea. Ava¡¯s eyes streamed tears as she fell. It was hard to believe what she was seeing was real. The scale was massive.


    Ava hugged the woman and her baby closer as they slowed their descent. She contacted John, he had been tracking their suits and was arranging to have them rescued. The other two hundred passengers on the climber would be hitting the surface about now. She looked at the expanse beneath and imagined bodies raining down on the Java Sea. She doubted whether any would have survived escaping the climber, being flung out into the atmosphere to burn, then freeze and fall. She gripped the woman and her baby tighter, wishing she could have done more. She could feel the baby wriggling between them, and its movements gave her some consolation. A tiny life amongst all the death. She slowed their descent as the temperature rose.


    ¡°My suit is down to ten percent,¡± sent Noah. ¡°The extra weight is draining the cells. Your suit must be at the same level Ava.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m at twelve, the closer we get, the harder the suits have to work. We¡¯ll lose our manoeuvrability. All we can do is slow our fall, so we don¡¯t hit too hard.¡± Ava had to shout her thoughts over the sound of the air rushing past.


    ¡°We¡¯re right above Jakarta Bay; we¡¯re going to drop right in the middle of it!¡±


    Ava monitored the suit; the gravity inverter was draining the cells, but it would arrest their fall so they wouldn¡¯t hit the water too hard. She folded back her head piece. ¡°Are you ok?¡± She shouted into the woman¡¯s ear. ¡°Is your baby ok?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied, still shivering uncontrollably. ¡°We¡¯re alive.¡± Ava could hear the baby screaming which was a good sign.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to land in the ocean. We¡¯ll be ok, we have friends coming.¡±


    They fell through the air, down towards Jakarta Bay. Looking east, across the Java Sea, Ava could see foam of the tsunami waves washing though the Indonesian archipelago. The waves were breaking up as they smashed into Java and Bali and thousands of smaller islands. Surging across the low-lying land masses and sweeping through coastal settlements. From this height the waves rushing across the Earth¡¯s surface looked like ripples in a pond, but Ava could see that thousands of communities would be overwhelmed. Her suit warned of an approaching aircraft. Below them air traffic had increased as media helicopters rushed to get live footage of the destruction along the equator.


    Ava made sure the suit had just enough power left to drop them gently in the warm sea, expending the last of its energy to slow them down. In the last few seconds, they hurtled towards the blue expanse of Jakarta Bay. Then, she felt like she was on the end of an elastic band as her descent was drastically slowed. She had time to look around at the choppy blue water before they splashed down. She was briefly submerged, but held onto her passengers before the three of them splashed up to the surface. Ava was relieved to hear the baby crying as she held on to them both. They floated around, Ava shouted for Noah and Mahdi, but her cries were overwhelmed by a deep rushing rumbling sound. She swivelled in the water and looked up. Her shouts turned into screams as a gigantic wave bore down on them.

 Chapter 9.

    Lago pulled at what was left of his right ear. His lobe had been cut off and it always itched when he was stressed. He watched the severed cable as it arced back towards Earth in a continent-spanning curve. It warped from vertical to horizontal as it descended, gathering colossal speed, striking the atmosphere like a giant whip, then disappearing in a roiling, sparking, maelstrom of friction and energy. He was consumed by the view, oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn¡¯t believe it was actually happening. His cable, linking his Earth to the stars, had been severed in seconds. The climber car disappeared into the atmosphere with two hundred passengers on board, all doomed to spectacular deaths. Lago didn¡¯t feel any grief, he didn¡¯t care about the casualties. He didn¡¯t feel anything except anger at his own impotence, his loss of control, his inability to defend what he had built. His boiling infuriation grew. The nerve of the Masama, daring to attack him.


    He was emasculated, his umbilical had been severed. The greatest engineering achievement in history had been destroyed. The remains of his cable dangled beneath like a giant tail, disappearing into the hazy light. Seconds after the attack, the hub began shaking violently as whiplash shockwaves from the impact travelled up the severed cable. Lago could sense the drift; they had lost their tether to Earth. He clamped his hands onto the shoulders of the bald technician in front of him to steady himself. Staring at the devastation unfolding below, his impotence fuelled his rage. His grip intensified, he held on and watched a few surviving Masama drones curve off towards his solar farm. The farm looked like a cobweb in space. They tore through the fragile construction, shredding the solar sails and smashing through the lightweight frames like they weren¡¯t even there.


    The hub had many autonomous telescopes constantly scrutinizing space, several were devoted to watching the Moon and the extensive damage Kayden¡¯s shuttle had wrought. Lago had watched the collision with delight, revelling in the destruction, surprised at Kayden¡¯s bravery if that¡¯s what it was, regretting only the loss of the K-star vessel. The memory of Jejomar¡¯s daughter and the threat of reproducing Masama had been a constant aggravation.  After their disastrous meeting with Jejomar, Lago knew he would have to take action against them. Then Kayden¡¯s suicidal shuttle attack seemed to have solved his problem. It was the best possible solution for Lago but after the shuttle attack, the Masama had moved into the lava tunnels where Lago couldn¡¯t spy on them. He assumed they must be severely depleted, their moon-base and everything in it had been completely decimated. So, it came as a shock when the telescopes picked up the drone swarm as they launched. As soon as he saw them Lago knew he was under attack, the Masama had recovered, he had procrastinated, he was not prepared for war.


    The group of technicians in front of him were barking orders into their comms, Lago knew they had procedures for a worst-case scenario like this, but he had hoped they would never have to put them into practice. They were in no immediate danger; the hub was structurally intact. He shouted some orders at his minions purely to relieve his own tension, ¡°Activate the nav boosters, maintain our orbit and keep scanning for any more incoming, in case there¡¯s a second wave.¡± The technician in front of him gave a minute nod, barely acknowledging him. Lago stared at the back of the man¡¯s bald head. He wanted to strangle him. He wanted someone to blame. The technician shifted underneath him, Lago squeezed his shoulders and pushed him into his seat. ¡°Give me all the angles below,¡± he snarled.


    The technician hunched over his screen. ¡°The remaining umbilical is five-thousand-kilometres-long, it will act like an anchor dragging us into Earth¡¯s atmosphere. As long as we have enough fuel to keep the hub¡¯s boosters firing, we can maintain our orbit, so we don¡¯t get dragged down. We will be safe as long as the fuel lasts.¡±


    ¡°How long is that?¡±


    ¡°Two or three weeks. Then our orbit will start to degrade. It depends on consumption rates and the mass of the shuttles currently docked with us.¡±


    Lago stared at the magnified screen. Some of the debris from the attack had been flung into orbit, floating around Earth with the rest of the junk. Lago could see frozen bodies amongst the shrapnel. Passengers doomed to circle the planet as frozen little satellites until their degrading orbit sent them plummeting through the atmosphere to burn up with all the other shooting stars. His grip intensified. His rigid fingers like metal talons dug into the technicians shoulders, pushing the man down, adding to the weight of Earth¡¯s gravity. ¡°Please, Mr Santos sir, can you let me go? We are in no immediate danger.¡± Lago stared at the top of the bald man¡¯s head. Eventually he stood up straight and scratched the scar under his beard before whirling away and storming off to his private quarters.


    Lago¡¯s residence was an iron cave that had been carved out of the side of the asteroid, a panoramic window ran the length of the apartment showing millions of twinkling stars. The dark walls, low ceilings and claustrophobic nature always had a calming effect on him, but at this moment Lago did not want calm. He had been attacked, he was at war, it was not a feeling he was used to. No-one had ever dared attack him so blatantly before. When he was younger, he had been involved in many petty gang wars over drug-running territories in Manila. He had survived hostile takeover attempts and assassination plots. But he had never been the victim of a full-scale military strike, he had never been the victim at all, he was always the aggressor. Confrontations were what he did best. He had never feared for his life, he always survived; he was too important to die.


    Lago had been buying helium3 from the Masama for years. They loathed each other, he knew that, but he assumed they wouldn¡¯t have the audacity or the capability to attack him. He was invulnerable inside the BPI asteroid, encased in millions of tonnes of rock but the Masama had hit him where it hurt. The elevator was a sitting target, defenceless and vulnerable. Lago hated this feeling of helplessness, of lack of control. He called Dato, his second in command. And his personal physician, Klara. He needed someone to blame for this mess.


    Lago ignored Dato and went straight to his physician as they arrived. He grabbed a small bottle from her medical bag, a cocktail of microscopic nanites. He stared at the cloudy liquid before drinking it, even though the nanites were too small to see. There were millions of the little machines already coursing through his body, purifying his blood, repairing cells, manufacturing vitamins, bacteria, and other necessary nutrients. Any wounds would be rapidly repaired, and any virus or disease would not stand a chance. He had been ingesting the nanites for years under Klara¡¯s supervision. They were too small to think of as machines, but he didn¡¯t care what they were as long as they kept him healthy.


    The other medication he really wanted and used much more regularly had an immediate effect. Amphetamines had always cleared his cluttered mind, helped him think straight and validate his sense of self-belief. He used to inject the stuff but that was a messy business and not great for his well-worn veins. Klara had developed a small ice vial that you cracked under your nose and inhaled the vapour. He didn¡¯t take the shabu to get high. He took it for clarity. Lago grabbed two vials from Klara¡¯s bag and snorted them both up each nostril, then rocked back in exhilaration. He took a deep breath and pounded his fists on the glass window, raging at the universe and roaring like an animal. After a few minutes he composed himself. The cleansing crystal rush washed away the anxiety and doubt like surf on the sand, leaving nothing but a familiar sense of self-importance.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°It¡¯s a revenge attack, but they are also sending you a message,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°Really? A message. Thank Christ I surround myself with such intellectual heavyweights like you Dato, I would never have thought of that myself.¡± Lago didn¡¯t trust anyone, but he usually respected Dato¡¯s opinions, although he would never admit it.


    Dato seemed immune to Lago¡¯s anger and did not react to his sarcasm. ¡°I know them Lago, remember I used to be a Masama. Since they relocated to the Moon, they have turned their back on Earth. They are equipping themselves to live in space permanently. The Moon is their home, and they see you as a threat to it. They want control of the solar system, and your orbital elevator was competition, providing access to space for BPI and your rich friends.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any friends,¡± muttered Lago. ¡°I once called your father a friend, but he¡¯s dead.¡±


    ¡°My father died trying to protect you and I had my revenge on the terrorists that killed him.¡± Dato stared at him icily. ¡°Lago if the Masama wanted you dead, they could have easily killed you on the Moon. They don¡¯t see you personally as a threat, it¡¯s what you built.¡±


    ¡°I never trusted them. I¡¯ve never forgiven them for betraying me, but we had a deal. They have been delivering the helium3 for years and I pay them whatever they want. No questions asked, why would they turn around and stab me in the back again? Why didn¡¯t you fucking warn me Dato, you should have seen this coming, we should have been prepared.¡±


    Lago had fought many battles back on Earth, but had led a peaceful existence since he moved up to live on the hub. Had he grown complacent? Too decadent? He hated these feelings of self-doubt. ¡°Klara, give me more shabu,¡± he snapped.


    ¡°Your deal died with Christophe. And Kayden¡¯s suicidal attack didn¡¯t set them back, it just accelerated their plans. If anyone could have anticipated this it would be you Lago, you were there dealing with them recently. They couldn¡¯t attack the hub. They would have known we are well protected inside the asteroid, so they targeted the umbilical. They don¡¯t need your deals or your money; they don¡¯t need you at all.¡±


    Lago found Dato¡¯s constant lack of respect infuriating. ¡°They obviously don¡¯t know me as well as they think they do. I¡¯m not going to retreat back to Earth without a fight. We almost had all the resources of the solar system within our grasp. I will not let those Moon mutants steal from me again.¡±


    ¡°Lago, the Masama see the solar system as their home, to them it¡¯s much more than just a financial opportunity. I don¡¯t think now is the time to pick a fight with them.¡±


    ¡°Now is exactly the time to fight,¡± snapped Lago. ¡°I¡¯ve single handedly saved this planet and dragged it kicking and screaming into the future. I was on the brink of leading humanity into space. We were almost there. We have to exploit to expand and the Masama are standing in our way. If they want a war for the control of the solar system, they¡¯ve got it.¡±


    ¡°They are more suited to space than us, many of them don¡¯t even need to breathe air anymore. They¡¯ve adapted to life on the Moon, and they are already procreating. Their drone tech is more advanced, and they have all the resources of the Moon at their disposal. Lago we are in no position to fight. The Masama are demonstrating to you who¡¯s in charge. And right now, I would have to agree with them.¡±


    Dato¡¯s arguments made Lago more belligerent, his hot breath steamed up the window in front of him. ¡°Klara! Where¡¯s the fucking shabu.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve had enough,¡± she replied quietly.


    ¡°Give me the fucking bag.¡± He snatched the bag from her and snorted two more vials. He had never backed down from a fight, but he was not used to being the underdog. He usually always had the biggest guns. ¡°They are starting a fight they cannot win. The traitorous mutant filth don¡¯t know me at all. I will not rest until I have annihilated their upstart little colony from the face of that squalid rock and melted their metal bodies into slag.¡±


    Dato stood next to him in silence for a moment, staring out into space. ¡°That¡¯s the drugs talking Lago, you know we have nothing to attack them with. The Masama built a war fleet of drones under that mountain, they will be prepared for any retaliation, and they will be fighting in their own environment, they have the advantage, and they know it.¡±


    Dato was the only one who would dream of talking to him like this. Anyone else would probably not survive the conversation. Dato was the voice of reason, a conscience he didn¡¯t seem to possess, but his words infuriated him. ¡°So, what do you suggest we do? Nothing?¡± Lago rounded on Dato and stared at him, eyeball to eyeball. They were of equal height, but the younger man had a bigger, stockier frame and did not take a step back. Lago could see no fear in his eyes, only a cold, hard regard.


    ¡°We have no weapons. We had thirty maintenance drones and ten tractor drones to use against the swarm. And the two Tobias shuttles are built for cargo, too slow, too cumbersome to even get in the way of the Masama drones. We should wait, bide our time, we have no choice but to go back to Earth,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°Fuck that. We weaponize our shuttles with railguns and missiles. Knock out their systems with effector weapons, make our own kamikaze drones. We have plenty of printers and plenty of bodies. We will invade the fucking place if we must, throw more soldiers at them. We are going after them. I don¡¯t care about the cost.¡±


    ¡°Lago, that would be suicide. The Masama already have too much of an advantage. You have lost your source of helium3, and they destroyed the solar farm. You don¡¯t have the resources for a battle against a space hardened Masama. You have to concede. Face the facts, they have already won.¡±


    Lago seethed with rage; Dato¡¯s rational words inflamed him. He wanted to slap him, punch him as hard as he could. In the past, he would have. These days he liked to think he was wiser and not so hot-headed, but a sense of injustice twisted his thoughts. What was rightfully his had been taken from him. Power, control, and status. His heart was pounding, and his body was shaking. There was no doubt in his mind. Any uncertainty had been washed away by the amphetamine. Lago stared at Dato, beginning to lose focus until Dato¡¯s words snapped him back to full concentration.


    ¡°You are not thinking clearly, you¡¯re too emotional. Try to be realistic,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°I am being realistic; we have nothing to lose. I will not go back to Earth and accept my place, down there in the dirt amongst the people.¡± Lago spat at the window, where Earth loomed below. ¡°I¡¯ve never backed down and I refuse to now. Everything I¡¯ve achieved I had to fight for, and I will carry on fighting. I created the Masama, I made them into what they are, now I will fucking destroy them.¡±


    ¡°The pupil always usurps the master Lago, it is the nature of the universe, it is evolution.¡±


    Lago shook his head and scowled, sometimes he suspected Dato wound him up on purpose. ¡°Fuck your evolution and your rationality. I refuse to sit back and let them take over. I¡¯ve seen what they are doing up there, breeding more mutant filth, it¡¯s unnatural, it¡¯s inhuman. We have to attack them, if we don¡¯t stop them, who knows where it will end. Will they invade Earth? Enslave us all? We have to attack them for the good of humanity, we have to protect our species and our planet or die trying.¡±


    Dato shook his head and sighed. ¡°Lago, we would be walking into a massacre. We have no army to fight them with and the Masama will see us coming.¡±


    ¡°I have been fighting my entire life, building my empire. But now there¡¯s a more important fight. For the future of Earth.¡± There was a long moment of tense silence as Lago composed himself. ¡°And its people,¡± he said as an afterthought.


    Lago stood at the window staring at the stars, grinding his teeth. Dato eventually sighed and shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t agree with this but if anyone can gain something from a hopeless situation, I suppose it¡¯s you,¡± Dato muttered quietly. ¡°We will need ammunition. I¡¯ll go and program the 3D printers to start producing weapons.¡±


    ¡°Of course, it¡¯s me. It has been, and always will be, only me.¡± Lago had total faith in his convictions; his will was strong. He would destroy the Masama and defend the Earth. The people of Earth needed him. He would wrestle back control and take back the power. He went and poured himself another drink, his amphetamine fuelled mind swirling with the machinations of war.

 Chapter 10.

    After the terrifying freefall, there was a brief moment of calm as they splashed down into the warm water. Looking around, Ava could see fishing boats and rafts on the surface of the choppy sea all being sucked out towards the looming wave. She spotted Noah close by, struggling to keep Mahdi¡¯s unconscious body above the water. The roaring of re-entry had been replaced with the rumbling of the wave that towered above them, stretching across the horizon. It was a wall of blue with thrashing white water at the crest. Ava could feel the pull of the current, dragging them closer to the gigantic mass of water. She briefly wondered if it would be less painful to drown, gently sinking to the bottom as you ran out of air, rather than being smashed by this titanic frothing monster. Either way, the wave was almost on them. She held her passengers, the baby was crying. Ava was petrified, helpless in the face of such a giant destructive force.


    Then she heard a voice in her head. ¡°Hold on Ava, we are almost there.¡± It was John using their psychic link. He must be close. The VLR swooped down in front of them. Its rotors whipping up the sea surface and its hull splashing through the chop. The side door was open and the three of them were hauled inside. The VLR quickly manoeuvred over to Noah and Mahdi, and they were quickly dragged in. Noah was coughing up seawater and Mahdi¡¯s head was still bleeding. A huge shadow moved over them. Ava looked out the door and all she could see was a vertical wall of water. It was upon them, above them. It was about to come crashing down as the rotors screamed and they were all sent flying into the back of the VLR from the sudden acceleration. Ava was sure they would be caught but the VLR burst out into the sunlight just in time as the wave thundered down around their tail.


    The VLR reached maximum speed in seconds as it sped across the ocean, but the wave was close behind. Ava still held onto her passengers; she wasn¡¯t convinced of their safety yet. Looking out the window she could see the frothing white water just behind them, almost keeping pace with the VLR. The wave front disappeared into the hazy distance as far as she could see, and its foaming crest was still higher than the VLR. Ava looked down at the sea bed. All of the water had been sucked out of Jakarta Bay leaving hundreds of boats stranded. Container ships, cruise liners, and fishing boats of all shapes and sizes sat helpless on the sand as the wave bore down on them. They slowly gained altitude and Ava released her hold on the thick thermal suit her passengers were wearing as the young mother struggled to get her arms free and check her baby. They both seemed ok.


    The young woman looked around with alarm. ¡°Who¡­ who are you people? Do you work for Lago?¡± She shouted above the roaring noise of the wave.


    Ava was stunned by the question. ¡°You know Lago Santos?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s the father of my baby,¡± she replied.


    Ava stared at the woman, shocked into silence. She shook her head. ¡°No, we don¡¯t work for Lago, you¡¯re both safe,¡± was all she could say. She looked out the window again, they had risen above the height of the wave. Below the VLR, the entire ocean was a frothing, churning, mass of white-water racing towards Jakarta. They gained more altitude, sacrificing speed for height, but they were finally safe. Noah and John tended to Mahdi who groaned, dazed with pain as he regained consciousness. Ava looked on anxiously as one of Johns companions came to attend with a medical kit. Her mind was still spinning, wondering who she had rescued.


    ¡°Even with the suits, I wondered how any of you could have survived,¡± said John.


    ¡°We were lucky we didn¡¯t all get cut to pieces by the debris,¡± said Noah, whose suit was stained with blood from Mahdi¡¯s wound that dripped to the floor. He held Mahdi¡¯s head as the medic fitted a brace around his neck and rubbed a topical glue-like nano-gel into his head wound.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be ok eventually,¡± said the medic, shining a light into Mahdi¡¯s slowly focusing eyes. ¡°The IA is repairing the damage done to his brain, but knitting his fractured skull back together will take longer. His cells are producing anaesthetics for the pain, but he¡¯ll still have a killer headache.¡±


    ¡°I see you managed to pick up a couple of hitchhikers Ava,¡± said John, coming over with bottles of water. It¡¯s a miracle these two survived the destruction. Are you ok? Do you need any medical attention?¡±


    ¡°No, we are ok,¡± said the young woman who drained the water. She had a strong frame and a determined look. Ava studied her. She couldn¡¯t have been much more than fifteen years old. Lago¡¯s son looked back at her suspiciously and gurgled.


    ¡°I found this thermal suit and oxygen mask, I jumped out after the fire, but then we almost froze. Thank you for saving us.¡±


    ¡°What are your names?¡± asked Ava.


    ¡°I am Lesedi, and this is Carasco.¡±


    The VLR sped inland, away from the wave. The frothing white water came crashing down behind them. Container ships were sent tumbling over, snapping like twigs. Ava watched with numb dread as the water thundered towards the city, littered with boats of all sizes. The Thousand Islands were swamped, the fragile fishing villages did not stand a chance. Ava was exhausted after falling from orbit but every muscle in her body was tense. She had so much to think about, she tried to focus on what, if anything, they could do to help. The coastal villages around Jakarta Bay housed thousands of people living in shacks, they were torn to pieces as the wave swept through and disappeared in the froth. There was nothing Ava could do. They were powerless in the face of such massive roaring destruction.


    The gigantic wash of churning water bore down on Jakarta, higher than most of the buildings. The people of Jakarta had little warning and no time to prepare, but there was nothing they could have done as the wave swept everything in its path. The surge smashed through the flimsy lowland buildings carrying a torrent of debris, vehicles, boats, and bodies further inland. The water cut a swathe through the central city, smashing windows and flooding through the city skyscrapers. Ava could see desperate people running away down the city streets, then disappearing as they were engulfed. She wanted to swoop down and pick them up, but it was impossible. The water swept up through the southern suburbs and washed up into the hills behind.


    The ancient coastal city was being destroyed in seconds. Wreckage swirled around in the dirty water along with the mangled bodies of thousands of people, crashing into the buildings still standing. A big, rusty oil tanker had been rolled up in the surf at least two kilometres inland, jammed between buildings, where it had ruptured, and the leaking oil had caught fire. The inferno slowly crawled through the waterlogged carcass of the city. The oily slick burned on the surface as it crept around the buildings. Ava stared in horror as the VLR flew above the city, along with several news helicopters that were filming the devastation. She spied some survivors waving frantically from a building top and asked the pilot to head in that direction.


    The VLR flew in close to the top of the building. There was nowhere to land as hordes of people climbed to safety, desperately waving at them. Ava realised it would be impossible to help them all, there was only so many that could fit inside the VLR. Faced with an awful decision, who to rescue? Who to leave behind? But she had to do what she could. The VLR hovered low enough to drop a ladder down and they were engulfed with desperate people clambering to safety. Ava helped each one inside as the interior soon filled to capacity and the pilot had to rise up above the building. A few people clung on to the underside, before losing their grip and falling back into the mass of people below. Ava tried to hold on to the flailing arms, but she couldn¡¯t save them all. As they slowly gained altitude other rescue helicopters moved in to help while the news helicopters carried on filming.


    Ava could see what was going to happen as more and more panicked people pushed up onto the roof. Those at the edge of the building ran out of room and grabbed frantically at each other, trying to hold on. Rescue helicopters arrived and hovered close, trying to pick up as many people as possible. But they couldn¡¯t help everyone, there were too many. People clung on to the landing gear, others tied to hold onto their dangling legs. Those who couldn¡¯t hold on plummeted down into the blazing water below. The people at the edge of the building were being pushed over as the mass of people increased. They fell straight into the flames licking up the side of the building from the burning oil. More rescue helicopters were arriving but for many it was too late.


    Ava sat back in the crowded VLR. There were cries of anguish but most of the survivors were uninjured. She was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. Shell shocked and powerless. Her body was weak, and she could barely lift a limb to put around Lesedi¡¯s shoulder. She had never seen so much death and destruction. It left her numb and shaking. The VLR flew up and away from the city. Ava held on to Lesedi as they looked out at the waterlogged suburbs below. ¡°Were you going up the elevator to see Carasco¡¯s father?¡± Ava asked.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°Yeah, we tried. It¡¯s impossible to see Lago in person but we made an appointment with one of his lawyers, it doesn¡¯t matter now. My people are all dead.¡± Lesedi shook her head and started shaking again, she was soaked from the seawater and Ava held her closer. She could see the anger on her face. She wondered what her story was, and could sense some similarities with herself. Ava recognised the signs of buried trauma and wanted to help, but Lesedi shrugged her away and clenched her fists. ¡°Was the BPI hub destroyed?¡±


    ¡°No, the cable was cut below the hub. Lago¡¯s still up there, orbiting Earth.¡±


    John had been comforting the passengers and checking on Mahdi, he crouched in front of them and looked on with concern. ¡°It seems we have a mutual interest Lesedi. We would love to hear your story but there is no urgency. You have just survived a massive disaster and fallen out of the sky; you must be in shock. Let me assure you, you are amongst friends. We will look after you and Carasco and take you wherever you want to go.¡±


    Lesedi nodded and gave a weak smile. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said.


    The VLR had a wall mounted screen that was tuned into one of the news channels. All the passengers looked on in stunned silence as satellite footage showed the enormous lengths of broken cable falling into the Indian Ocean. The pieces of cable fell in a straight line, east to west across the equator. Each piece was thousands of kilometres long. The shiny metallic strands fell horizontally out of the sky and slapped into the ocean creating a huge steaming splash. The plumes of steam obscured the eruption of water bursting from the impact, cutting the Indian ocean in two. The camera panned eastwards towards Sumatra where a piece of cable could be seen draped over the land mass and disappearing into the foaming seas like a giant snake. To the west, the last pieces hit the Indian Ocean near Somalia and disappeared in clouds of steam.


    To Ava, the scenes were apocalyptically surreal, like a disaster movie. The cables falling across the ocean caused surges to radiate out from the impact point and roll north across the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian sea. The frantic news commentary described how these areas had been coping with rising sea levels for decades and had been devastated by tsunamis in the past, but the scope of these waves covered thousands of kilometres. Anyone near the coastlines of India, Pakistan, Oman, and Somalia would perish. The entire east coast of Africa would be saturated, and to the south, the icy wasteland of Antarctica would be swamped. A news helicopter chased a wave that was heading north, as she watched, the frothing swell grew from ten to twenty metres approaching Sri Lanka and Bangladesh.


    The view shifted to the futuristic city of Singapore. The swell swept through the islands in the South China sea and surged across the Singapore Strait. It washed through the towering space-age skyscrapers protruding through the spray. The force of the wave toppled many of the smaller towers, sending them crashing into their neighbours. The cameras showed people flinging themselves from the broken buildings into the churning seas below. Beautifully manicured gardens, vertical green spaces and cutting-edge architecture were demolished in seconds as the unrelenting wave swept through. Ava looked at the screen with weary eyes, she wished she could have done more to help. Looking around at the survivors crammed into the VLR, some were praying, some were crying, some were staring numbly at the walls. She told herself she had done everything possible. She couldn¡¯t help everyone.


    John shook his head and sighed. ¡°Singapore was leading the way in eco-architecture and sustainability; its population was about six million, but Jakarta housed more than twenty million people. The city had been sinking for decades. They drained the underground aquifers to provide water and caused the land under the city to collapse beneath their feet. For years, Jakarta existed below sea level. The Indonesian government had already relocated but the people couldn¡¯t just leave. They learned to live on the ocean, houseboats, giant floating shanty towns, slums built on cobbled together piles of floating trash, fish farms and desalination plants. They were adapting, becoming water people like us in Miami. But now it¡¯s all gone.¡±


    The VLR slowed down as it flew over a large inland city. Ava looked out through the smog at the normal, everyday activities below. They swooped down and landed in front of the Bandung hospital. She helped the passengers disembark, blinking in the bright sunlight as hospital attendants came to help. They were mostly uninjured, but stumbled around in shock. Ava went back to Lesedi and Carasco. ¡°You can stay with us if you want Lesedi, we will take you wherever you want to go.¡±


    ¡°Why were you going to see Lago? Are you friends?¡±


    ¡°We are not friends. We were on our way to confront him before the cable was attacked. You can trust me Lesedi. Where are you from?¡±


    Lesedi looked at her suspiciously. Carasco was sleeping in her arms. ¡°I¡¯m from Cape Town. I was fourteen when he abducted me. I was walking home from school when they grabbed me and knocked me unconscious and when I woke up, I was locked in a box. I screamed and kicked and cried, I didn¡¯t know what was happening, but they must have imprisoned me for a reason.¡±


    Ava held her head in her hands for a moment then reached out and took Lesedi¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one.¡±


    Lesedi pulled her hand away. ¡°I know I¡¯m not the only one, there are others. He drugged me. I would wake up in his bed. They gave me so much smack I couldn¡¯t move. The first time I vomited all over his bed, he beat me badly, but I survived. They kept me locked in that box, fed me rice, gave me water, nothing I could kill myself with because I would¡¯ve. I¡¯d no idea how much time passed, but I must have been locked in that box for weeks. I would have gone insane, but the drugs kept me numb.¡± Lesedi stared at Ava¡¯s shaven head. Ava¡¯s cap and wig had long since disappeared and Lesedi looked questioningly at Ava¡¯s scar but didn¡¯t ask. ¡°They operated on me. Took one of my kidneys. He told me I was his favourite.¡±


    Ava fought back the tears. ¡°How did you escape?¡±


    ¡°They got sloppy or maybe one of them took pity on me. I think they were taking the smack as well. One day I woke up in my box and the door was open. I couldn¡¯t believe it, I thought it was a trick. I crept out of there, down a corridor, out a window and out onto a street in the middle of Cape Town. It was daytime and there were people everywhere. I ran, I just kept on running and running until I collapsed. I found my way back home. I don¡¯t know if my mother believed my story, but she loved me. After a few days, I was in withdrawal. I don¡¯t know if I believed it myself. Two months after my escape I discovered I was pregnant. My Mum wanted me to get rid of him, but he belongs to me, and I had to keep him. It¡¯s not his fault his father is a monster.¡±


    ¡°You are welcome to stay with us, for as long as you need,¡± Ava held Lesedi¡¯s shoulder and smiled through her tears. ¡°We were trying to get to Lago also, perhaps we could work together.¡±


    The Vertical Lift Rotor was a sleek silver craft that had attracted a big crowd of onlookers. It took off quietly after all the passengers had disembarked. Mahdi was regaining consciousness; he gave Ava a weak thumbs up and lay back secured in the stretcher. Ava was exhausted and brought to tears by Lesedi¡¯s story. What was unfolding on the screens did not help as they continued to show close up coverage of the destruction.


    ¡°Is there anyone you need to contact?¡± asked Ava.


    ¡°I guess I should call my Mum, she¡¯s all I have left.¡±


    ¡°Can you tell us what you planned to do at the BPI hub?¡± asked Ava.


    ¡°I was with a group of women, all Lago¡¯s victims. Some were kept as sex slaves and some were used for organ transplants, or both. There were five of us with a lawyer and a journalist travelling together. After I escaped, I couldn¡¯t just forget. I couldn¡¯t move on. I found other victims, I searched the web and found a group of women that claimed to have been abducted by Lago. Some men too. But there were a lot of fakers. Women and men who actually idolized him and were attracted to him. There are some fucked up people out there.¡±


    Carasco woke up and started crying, Ava handed him a piece of apple that kept him occupied as Lesedi continued. ¡°I contacted the victims, and we supported each other. We all had similar stories, they all managed to escape like me, or they survived after being left for dead. I hate to think of how many didn¡¯t survive.¡±


    Ava bowed her head and wiped tears away from her eyes. She didn¡¯t cry easily but Lesedi¡¯s story and her exhaustion had left her in a fragile state. She had known there were others, but she had no idea how many. She had painful memories which she could not quite piece together. She didn¡¯t want to revisit that time but listening to Lesedi bought it all back.


    ¡°Are you people after Lago as well? What did you plan to do? Try to kill him?¡± asked Lesedi.


    ¡°We were going to change him,¡± said Ava. ¡°Change him for the better and change him forever. I was abducted by him too. I wanted him dead; I have wanted revenge for years, but there is a better way. What did your group plan to do?¡±


    Lesedi looked quizzically at Ava before answering. ¡°We thought about trying to assassinate him, but it¡¯s impossible to get close, he¡¯s always surrounded by security. I guess that¡¯s how he has survived for so long. We threatened him with a lawsuit,¡± she said with an ironic laugh. ¡°We were going to sue him for damages and unpaid child support. The journalist with us planned the whole expedition. It was going to be a true crime show, rape victims trying to sue the rapist who just happens to be the most powerful man on Earth. But I don¡¯t think Lago was worried about a lawsuit or any bad press. I think he agreed for us to meet his lawyers out of curiosity more than anything. We are the ones that got away. Maybe he just wanted us all in one place so he could capture us again.¡±


    ¡°You are very brave to take on Lago. And your friends.¡±


    ¡°My friends are all dead. I might as well come with you. What did you mean when you said you were going to try to change him?¡±


    Ava tried to explain as the VLR flew over the low hills of West Java, back towards Jakarta to help with the rescue effort. She could see the dark hazy air that hung over the city. Clouds were gathering, thick with moisture that began to descend on the remains of the city like a grey funeral veil.

 Chapter 11.

    Ava was locked in a box. She woke with a pounding headache and an overwhelming sense of dread. She struggled to open her eyes, the light was dim, and she didn¡¯t trust what she was seeing. She reached out with shaking fingers and could feel soft padding on either side and underneath. She was naked. She sat up and almost vomited, she kicked out with her feet and connected with an empty metal bucket. Beyond that, she could feel the same gauzy material she was lying on. She closed her eyes again. Thoughts like confetti flickered through her grasp and faded away. This must be a bad dream.


    She woke again after a time. She had no idea how long. Her head still hurt. She was still imprisoned in this hot padded box; it was no dream. She rolled over and looked around with fuzzy eyes. She was in a small square space, the walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in thick padding. It was not quite big enough to stand up in. She cried out as her head hit the padded ceiling. There was a small door at one end, where a tiny amount of light penetrated the gap between the top of the door and the ceiling. In front of the door the bucket had been placed upright and next to it there was a bowl of rice and a bottle of water. She cried out again. She yelled, ¡°Neymar! Ronaldo! help!¡± But her little voice was absorbed by the padded box. She screamed and screamed again then fell sobbing on the floor.


    She cried for a while and then she got angry, angry at herself for getting caught. Stupid fucking chicken. She kicked out and punched the walls until her hands hurt, she got anxious and scared again. This wasn¡¯t a police cell; the thugs that abducted her were not police. Smokey Mountain kids disappeared all the time, most of them were forced into slavery or worse, but she never thought it would happen to her. She was young, but she knew of the horrible things people do to each other, she knew she was still alive because they wanted to do horrible things to her. She ate her rice and drank the water, she tried to get her fingernails in the gap at the top of the door, but it was too small. There was a bright light shining outside and she yelled at it a few times and tried her best karate kicks on the door, but it did not budge. Something moved behind the door and blocked out the light. She screamed and kicked the door with even more vigour, but a foul-smelling gas poured into the little room through the gap. She tried to hold her breath but soon fell unconscious to the floor.


    She woke up in a different place. Her head was heavy, she couldn¡¯t open her eyes and her arms and legs were dead. She could hear people talking in the background. Muffled voices, adult voices, male voices.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a waste of anaesthetics? Most of them won¡¯t survive.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s so much easier when they¡¯re unconscious. You can¡¯t operate when they¡¯re kicking and screaming.¡±


    Sharp chemical smells filled Ava¡¯s nostrils. Her eyes stayed closed, but there was a burning bright light above her. Red circles under her eyelids, hot like the Sun. Some feeling returned to her limbs. She became aware of her body and flexed against the restraints. She was naked, strapped to a table. Her arms, legs and neck were firmly bound to cold hard metal beneath. The voices came closer. A cold gloved hand touched Ava¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°If they¡¯re not going to survive why not take the heart and lungs as well as the kidneys?¡±


    ¡°They have to be used within six hours so the logistics can be difficult. Kidneys last twenty-four hours or longer with the right transportation. We try to keep them alive so we can operate on them again. Some customers also want to see the donor before the operation.¡±


    ¡°What about their blood?¡±


    ¡°Yes we can drain their blood. It¡¯s not worth anything though, especially from filthy little street rats like this one.¡±


    Ava couldn¡¯t wake up properly, she couldn¡¯t open her eyes and her arms and legs were weak. The bright light burnt a red circle on her eyelids. She was beginning to realise something horrible was about to happen. They were talking about her. Her blood. Her kidneys. She forced an eye to open and was instantly blinded by the hot white light above.


    ¡°Why does Lago want the pineal gland¡±


    Ava could feel the man¡¯s breath on her face as he stooped over her. It smelled like chicken and garlic. ¡°Lago believes that the pineal has some metaphysical properties. He thinks ingesting pineal glands from children on the verge of puberty can prolong his life. It¡¯s a myth, of course. Just another fantasy that wealthy people looking for eternal youth want to believe.¡±


    Ava didn¡¯t understand these words. But she knew they were talking about her. Panic started to build inside her screaming dread and danger, screaming get the fuck out of there, but her body could not respond. She couldn¡¯t even move her limbs. There was a cold sharp pain in her arm, then she didn¡¯t care, she was numb, she only wanted to sink into delicious sleep. The hot bright Sun began to dim. The last thing she could see before her flickering eyes closed was a gloved hand holding a little metal bone cutting saw.


    She woke up. Everything hurt. Her body was tender and sore all over. She didn¡¯t know where she was, she didn¡¯t know who she was. She didn¡¯t even have enough energy to cry. She was detached from reality, maybe she was dead.


    She woke up again. She could remember her name but not much else. She was in the box. She was still too weak to move, and the pain had condensed to her head and belly. She was alive and conscious enough to know she was still a prisoner. She was still in trouble. She tried to kick but her legs were too weak. In the dark, she could feel an ugly scar on the back of her head that was wet with congealing blood and throbbed with pain. There was another wound across her abdomen. She gently touched the stitches and cried herself back to sleep.


    She woke up again. It was horrible to wake up in this claustrophobic nightmare. Ava lost count of the days. She would wake up, head thick with fog, delirious and disorientated, remembering where she was. The bucket had always been emptied and there was always a bowl of rice and a bottle of water placed in front of the door. She couldn¡¯t seem to focus her thoughts, she would go through the same range of emotions, fear, anger, and misery before they all started blending into one. She would shit and piss in the bucket. She tried to keep count of how many water bottles, how many bowls of rice and how many sleeps but she soon lost the numbers. She couldn¡¯t concentrate on anything. There was something missing in her head. She would see visions of Baby and Ronaldo, but she couldn¡¯t quite remember who they were. They scolded her for not catching the chicken. She would see the stupid one-legged chicken in the corner of the box, looking at her sideways, pecking at her feet. The chicken began to talk to her, taunting her, telling her she was too slow and shit at karate. She began to use her own shit to draw the faces of her friends on the padded walls in the dark. She couldn¡¯t remember what they looked like, but it was much better having some company, someone to talk to.


    Ava knew that she was being kept alive for a reason. They must want more from her. More organs or bits of her brain. She suspected she had been drugged but she couldn¡¯t be sure. She couldn¡¯t be sure about anything. The drugs sucked the life and the will to fight out of her. When the drugs wore off, she was achy, itchy, feverish, and nauseous. She welcomed the numbness, but she knew she had to try and escape, she had to get out of this horrible shitty hot box with that bastard chicken.


    It was so hard to formulate her thoughts. There was a missing link in her head. She lived in a cycle of anxious pain then numb oblivion with only her shit friends and the taunting chicken for company. She didn¡¯t know how many weeks this went on for, she had lost any sense of time, but in rare moments of lucidity, she knew she could not live like this. They would come for her again and cut her open, it was only a matter of when.


    She dreamed of the Sun. Directly above her, close enough to touch. It''s scalding, caustic light exposing her, cooking her. Ava woke up on the operating table. Under the harsh, burning light. She was naked. She tried to concentrate through her drugged haze, attempting to understand her surroundings and look for an opportunity. She had no idea what, but she had to do something or die trying. She kept her eyes closed and pretended to be unconscious, listening to the voices.


    ¡°Half a million dollars for this little liver. Hard to believe.¡± Ava felt a soft hand on her arm and could sense someone standing over her. She couldn¡¯t feel any restraints. This was her chance.


    ¡°He needs a new one quickly. His liver is riddled with disease.¡± Ava sensed another voice close by. ¡°It¡¯s a routine operation Lago, I have done hundreds of them. I appreciate you taking the time to come down here and supervise but it¡¯s really not necessary. I¡¯m sure you have more important things to do.¡±


    A terrifying sense of urgency galvanised Ava. She risked opening one eyelid a fraction to see two men standing next to the gurney she was lying on. One of them put down a syringe and went to fasten her restraints. Next to her there was a table with equipment. Shining steel forceps, swabs and several scalpels. She flexed her limbs. She had to act now.


    ¡°Yes I do. But I enjoyed her pineal gland and I want to try the adrenal. I believe the hormones and steroids will be beneficial. And I want to see where it comes from.¡±


    The man talking stooped over Ava, inspecting the scar on her abdomen. He stroked her belly tenderly and smiled. A surge of revulsion swept through Ava, and her limbs moved instinctively. Just as the other man was beginning to tie the restraints, she snapped her knee into his head and felt a satisfying crack. At the same time, as his head swayed towards her, she rose up and bit down hard on the man¡¯s ear. She tasted his blood, salty and metallic.


    ¡°Aah fuck! You fucking bitch!¡± The man rocked back holding his ear, leaking blood down the side of his face.


    Ava spat out a piece of the man¡¯s ear and rolled over, grabbing at the scalpels on the table. He focused on her and Ava looked into his rage-filled eyes. His hands were round her throat and he was screaming. ¡°You fucking little bitch!¡± She tried to kick out as he choked her, and the other man struggled to restrain her legs. His eyes were bloodshot and demented, huge black pupils dilating his entire eyeball. Blood ran down the side of his face, dripping into his bared teeth and into his black beard. Her hand clasped a scalpel and she swung it around blindly, hoping to connect with anything solid. She was terrified and already exhausted, but she didn¡¯t have time to think. Her body was moving faster than her brain as she tried to stab at the man¡¯s face.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Her arms were weak and there was no power behind her lunge, but the scalpel connected and cut a thin bloody line from his chin, through his beard to his right cheek. The scalpel stayed embedded in his cheek as he drew back in horrified shock, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. He seemed to forget about Ava as she wriggled underneath him trying to escape. The scalpel hung from his face but fell to the floor as he screamed again. Ava rolled off the table and fell to the cold hard floor. She slipped in his blood as he staggered back but she found the scalpel and managed to stand up on shaking limbs. The man that had been strangling her had both hands to his face trying to stop the bleeding. He was screaming and swearing. The other man in a white smock was cowering in front of another operating table. On the table, an old fat patient lay prone and unconscious. Something primal and angry inside Ava took over. She screamed, high-pitched and bloodcurdling and swung the bloody scalpel at the man in the smock who staggered backwards, knocking the table over and sending the unconscious patient sprawling across the floor. At the same time Ava spied the door and ran for it. The man she had cut tried to stop her, but the limp body of the patient tripped him up. She was out the door and running down a corridor. Naked and bloody.


    She didn¡¯t have time to think. The primal rage still fuelled her, like a wild animal had taken over. She screamed again as she raced down the corridor. Voices shouted behind her. The man she had cut was giving chase. She crashed through some double doors and out into a loading bay. Below her, two black vehicles were parked with a group of burly men gathered around smoking. They all looked startled as Ava screamed at them and brandished the scalpel. She leapt on top of one of the vehicles as the bleeding man burst through the double doors and screamed. ¡°Get her!¡± Ava was too fast. She raced across the roof and bounced off the bonnet of the vehicle and she was out on the street. It was dark and she had no idea where she was, but she just ran. The men gave chase. She scampered down the middle of the road, still screaming for help but her legs were weakening, her strength was draining away. The men were gaining on her. She came to a bridge and ran to the middle. She couldn¡¯t see what was below, it was too dark. They were almost on her. There was only one option. She clambered over the concrete fence and tumbled over the edge, only just avoiding the grasping arms of her pursuers. She screamed again as she fell, not knowing what was beneath her, then she hit the water hard.


    Ava couldn¡¯t swim. She had only ever had the occasional bath. She flapped around, splashing and swallowing mouthfuls of foul-tasting water. She went under several times as she was swept away. Just as she was about to be overcome by the dark watery oblivion, she felt mud and rocks beneath her feet. Just enough solidity to stand up and breathe properly. She pushed off the bottom and floated down the river, closer to the shallow edge. She crawled through the shallows for hours. Through the rubbish and thousands of plastic bottles, determined to get as far away as possible from the nightmare behind her. Eventually she collapsed in the warm mud and let herself succumb to exhaustion.


    She woke up in daylight. The hot Sun beat down on her. She was sore all over and it was the pain that eventually galvanized her, that forced her to move, to do something. Anything to take her mind off the aching and get her out of the Suns scorching gaze. Her whole body was slick and slippery, covered with wet, stinking mud. She raised her head and looked around at the buildings close by. Some ramshackle huts next to the water. She was in the muddy foreshore of a tidal estuary, washed up with the rest of the rubbish. She tried to crawl, but she was too weak. Her rage had disappeared and with it all her energy. She tried to cry but it hurt terribly. The stitches across her belly had burst and fluids were leaking out. The back of her head throbbed terribly; it was a raw open wound. She forced herself to crawl through the mud, one arm wrapped around her bloody, muddy, stomach, holding her intestines in, but it was too hard. She collapsed several times and lay there choking. Just as she drifted into unconsciousness again, she heard cries of alarm and could feel hands lifting her up out of the mud.


    She woke up again and this time it was even more surreal. Blinding white lights blazing down on her, faces she didn¡¯t recognise staring at her and saying comforting words. Acrid smells assaulting her nostrils, an acid burn in her stomach and a throbbing pain in her head. She had a surge of panic, thinking she was back in the operating room. And it was all too much for her twelve-year-old brain, she slipped back into the sanctuary of unconsciousness.


    When she emerged from the darkness again her eyes were stuck together, and her body was numb and alien, as if it wasn¡¯t hers. She forced her eyes open and took in the surroundings. She was in a bed with scratchy sheets, one of many beds lined up in a row against a wall that went all the way down to a grimy window at the end of a long room. She had no idea how long she had been there. She had lost all sense of time and her memories were in pieces. There were gauzy bandages wrapped around her middle, tubes attached to her nose and another tube taped to her arm. Her head was also bound tightly. A man was sitting in another bed next to hers, he smiled and waved. He had a black beard. Ava panicked, screamed, fell out of the bed, ripping the tubes out and hitting her head on the floor.


    She was woken up again, not knowing where she was, not knowing who she was, wondering if she was alive or dead. She would rather not wake up at all. Hands were gently holding her shoulders. Someone was shining a bright light in her eye. She overheard a conversation; people wondering who would do this to a young girl and describing how strong she was. She wouldn¡¯t answer the doctor¡¯s questions, she didn¡¯t know what to tell them. She never had a proper conversation with an adult in her entire life, and after her ordeal she was terrified of any male with facial hair. She couldn¡¯t put the pieces back together. When they finally left her alone, and as soon as she was strong enough, she limped out of the hospital in her gown. No one tried to stop her, no one gave her a second glance.


    She walked all the way back to Smokey Mountain in bare feet. She got lost many times, but some homing instinct guided her. She remembered her Nike trainers, she wished she still had them. Her head ached, she was empty, but she wasn¡¯t hungry, just thirsty but too weak to steal any water. The bandages wrapped around her torso were tight, the only thing holding her together. Her head was also bound with bandages and throbbed constantly. Most people passing by avoided her. Some tried to stop her and offer help, but she just kept moving, trying to stay out of the Sun. She didn¡¯t trust any grown-ups. During her walk she kept seeing the stupid one-legged chicken, stalking her, standing on street corners, staring at her with one demented eye. Eventually she made it back to the bus, crawling over the trash, her body weak and starting to feel feverish. It was the middle of the day so most of the Metalheads were out foraging but Messi was there looking after the bus.


    ¡°Ava! Oh my god! Are you ok? Where have you been?¡±


    ¡°Agua,¡± was all she could say. Messi fetched a water container and watched with concern as Ava drained it then fell into a sweaty, twitchy sleep punctuated by terrifying dreams about chickens and men with facial hair. Her hand gripped the statue of Mother Mary.


    She awoke that night with most of the Metalheads gathered around her. Messi was holding her hand, watching her with concern, Ronaldo and Neymar were sitting close by. She felt terrible, every muscle ached, there was broken glass crunching in the joints of her bones. She was feverish, sweating but freezing at the same time and she couldn¡¯t get comfortable in any position. The wound across her belly was a sharp agony and she was glad of the bandage giving her a sense of solidity as the rest of her unravelled.


    ¡°Tell us what happened to you,¡± said Neymar.


    She looked around at their concerned faces, but she couldn¡¯t tell them anything. She was too weak to relate the ordeal for them and she wasn¡¯t sure of her story. She vaguely remembered being abducted on the street and locked in the box, but after that the memories were indistinct. She knew she had been drugged. She knew things had been taken from her. Important things her body needed. They took a piece of her brain and she missed it. It seemed like the worst, longest nightmare, but it was real, she had the scars, she remembered fighting the man with the beard, but she did not want to relive the torture. She tried to put those memories in a corner of her mind, tried to block them off. She was alive. She would deal with them later.


    The next few days she stayed in the bus, curled up on a dirty thin mattress, shivering, crying, and sweating. After a week she felt better, the aches and shakes had gone. Messi looked after her, bought her water and scraps of food. Her body was growing stronger, but she struggled to remember important stuff. Her friends names and samples of her memory had disappeared. She was confused and found it hard to concentrate. She began to realise the rest of the Metalheads were growing suspicious of her. They had watched her thin, pale little body twitching, sweating, and listened to her mumbling in her sleep. She hadn¡¯t told them anything and she wasn¡¯t going to. One of the Metalheads had said the real Ava was dead and her ghost had returned. The superstitious idea spread through the gang. One day Ava overheard one of them saying we must get rid of the ghost in our bus, and it was then she understood that she had to leave. She wasn¡¯t the matriarch of the Metalheads anymore.


    She roamed the streets of Manila, begging and thieving, sleeping in boxes under bridges. The wound on her belly healed, but it left a red, raw scar in the shape of a smile. She kept her head wrapped in bandages for weeks, terrified of what was underneath. Eventually the bandages fell away and Ava could feel a puckered U-shaped scar at the base of her skull. The hair never grew back. She survived on the streets, on her own, suspicious of anyone that tried to make contact. She knew her head was missing an important piece, her brain was foggy, she struggled to retain information, to remember anything apart from the immediate necessities of survival. Some days she could barely remember her own name.


    One day, one of the little food stalls she regularly stole from offered her a job. The old proprietor had a kind heart. She told Ava she might as well come and work for her because Ava would eventually steal everything she had anyway. When the proprietor died, Ava took over the stall. She arranged for a funeral and burial. The woman had been the only adult Ava had ever properly known. She carried on cooking the recipes she had learned. Grilled intestine skewers, deep fried quail eggs, fish balls and squid balls. But never any chicken. One day a smartly dressed woman whom Ava had seen at her stall offered her a job as a cook on a cruise ship. She said she loved Ava¡¯s food and wanted her to create authentic Filipino dishes on the ship for thousands of rich tourists. Ava jumped at the chance and began her new life.


    Ava lived day by day. As time moved on, she couldn¡¯t remember anything before her abduction. She couldn¡¯t remember her childhood. That had been taken from her, she had the scars to remind her of her loss. She tried to build new memories, but they didn¡¯t seem to stay with her. Fragments of life burnt away in the Sun. She sailed around the world many times, she experienced breath-taking coastlines, endless oceans, diverse cultures, and delicious foods. She lived in the moment, day by day, only thinking of the now. She was a good cook. She worked hard and was paid well. During one stop over in Cuba she was out shopping for fresh produce when she fell into conversation with a local about the city of Miami and the rumours of what was happening in the drowned city. Life on the cruise ship was good but Ava was intrigued by the stories of an advanced utopian society growing in the ruins. She quit her job and chartered a boat to take her north. She was looking for something, she wasn¡¯t sure what, maybe it was her place in the world. And she found it in Miami.

 Chapter 12.

    Ojerime stalked around the solar system, ruffling her feathers, angling her long neck to inspect the sulphuric crust of Mercury. The little planet had a torrid history, like the Moon, it had thousands of impact craters on its surface. Ojerime found it hard to believe such a hot little planet, the closest to the Sun, could boast such extremes of temperature that ice could be found hidden away in caves near the poles, while the daylight temperatures could be in excess of four hundred degrees. She put her wing up to shield her face from the Sun¡¯s heat. The simulation was in real-time, comets, asteroids, and planets were all exactly where they should be. She had created this virtual space to witness the birth of the biggest coronal mass ejection for thousands of years. She noticed the bulging spot on the surface of the Sun and went to take a closer look.


    In this virtual space she was represented by a multi-coloured cassowary. The space looked infinite, but Ojerime could walk from the Sun to Neptune with a few long steps. In the middle, the Sun was a blazing hot ball. The eight orbiting planets varied in size and slowly circled the burning sphere, tracing various paths around the dark spaces. She inspected the planets, pleased with the exquisite detail. Tiny comets blasted around in elongated orbits, asteroids swirled around the gas giants, sucked into gravity wells and disappearing into their atmospheres. Some other Masama were there to witness the CME. They were represented with various different avatars. A metal peacock, with swords for feathers, a giant python, a tightly coiled ball of barbed wire, and a banyan tree.


    Ojerime moved closer to the Sun, fascinated by the pressurized bubble forming. Beneath the surface, millions of tonnes of hydrogen were being fused into helium every second. Mega-tonnes of matter turned into energy which took tens of thousands of years to reach the surface. The energy gradually escaped from the core, sifting through the zonal layers, spaces large enough to contain many Earths. Ojerime watched this energy event become trapped, the pressure starting to build. She waved the others over. ¡°This is the CME. This is what we have been waiting for.


    She had detected this giant sunspot and watched it brewing. The universe was full of esoteric energy, like the helium3 embedded in the Moon¡¯s regolith. Ojerime wanted to harness it, store it, and utilize it. She stared at the Sun, awestruck by its ferocious beauty. She visualised the energy inside, captured between the huge horizontal levels of convection zone and the photosphere. Regions where great seams of plasma move in different directions creating a shear. Each layer with its own temperament, acting like a colossal solar dynamo, magnetizing the trapped energy, and creating powerful fields. The Sun¡¯s fluid turbulence twisted the magnetic field into complex contortions, increasing the tension. She had studied the phenomena; now she could see it unfolding.


    The Masama avatars gathered around to witness the coronal mass ejection. Ojerime stood in front with her wings outstretched, absorbing the heat. The sunspot bubbled on the surface; the pressure grew to breaking point until it could no longer be contained. This was the moment. The immense pressure was released with the power of twenty million nuclear bombs. Enormous bubbles of superheated plasmic gas threaded with magnetic field lines were ejected. Billions of tonnes of material were lifted off the Sun¡¯s surface and accelerated to speeds of over a million kilometres per hour. Thousands of years after their birth in the Sun¡¯s core, an onslaught of ancient, charged particles were released into space.


    Although this was a simulation, Ojerime was awestruck by the wave of plasma and energy, one hundred-thousand-kilometres high. A solar tsunami bursting from the coronal sphere and churning with electrified magnetic energy. The CME began with a gradual rising motion, followed by a period of rapid acceleration away from the Sun, through Ojerime¡¯s outstretched wings and past the gathered Masama avatars. This particular ejection was one of the biggest releases of pressurized violence over the last few thousand years, a tiny amount of time in the life of the Sun. Ojerime closed her eyes and worshipped the power. The CME was a giant wave of potent energy, and she was going to try and sample a fraction of it.


    ¡°Time to go to work,¡± sent Dakila. Ojerime watched the Masama avatars disappear before she reluctantly clicked back into the real world. A large cavern at the top of the lava tube inside the mountain had been excavated to house their biggest, oldest printer, and an array of supporting equipment. Other printers like identical children were stationed around the cavern, manufacturing and assembling the tiny robots they called Replica.


    ¡°Ojerime, can you monitor the direction and set coordinates to intercept. We haven¡¯t much time,¡± sent Dakila as she approached.


    Ojerime went to work, plugging in cables and setting up the screen. She activated a three-dimensional projection showing the Moon in relation to Earth, and the Sun a fiery orange ball in the distance. She wished she could do this in the virtual space, but she needed to concentrate on the hardware to launch the Replica. The projection was not to scale but multiple readouts tracked waves of contour lines that flowed from the Sun, across the space towards Earth.


    ¡°What are these wave patterns?¡± asked Dakila.


    ¡°These jagged lightning bolts represent cosmic rays caused by the CME. These contour lines are the solar winds from the Sun¡¯s corona. This is the biggest and most violent ejection ever recorded, it¡¯s like a hypernova or neutron star collision.¡±


    ¡°Here,¡± Dakila pointed a metal claw to a corner of the three-dimensional space where the jagged lines were gathered close together.


    Ojerime studied the pattern. She had never felt more alert, as if her entire body was energised by the huge wave of solar energy. The lines formed a swirling front, moving with the solar winds towards Earth. ¡°It¡¯s the heart of the CME, where the electro-magnetic radiation is most concentrated. I¡¯ve never seen the contour lines packed so tightly together, and the red shade here indicates extremely high levels of electro-magnetic energy. In front is this huge shock wave of ionizing radiation.¡± Ojerime pointed to undulations in the space ahead of the storm like ripples in a pond.


    They acknowledged Jejomar as he arrived and together, they watched the volatile storm front as it rolled across the three-dimensional space towards the vulnerable looking Earth and its tiny Moon.


    ¡°The wave front will be huge,¡± sent Ojerime.


    ¡°This is our opportunity to experiment with the Replica swarm. Send them into the path of the storm to be empowered,¡± sent Jejomar.


    ¡°It will probably destroy them, they are just tiny metal insects,¡± sent Dakila.


    Ojerime was confident the little machines would succeed. ¡°It¡¯s an experiment, their main function is to record data about the nature of the CME. If they can capture and store some of its energy and bring it back to us, then it will be a success. If they are destroyed, then so be it. We will learn and the next swarm will be better prepared.¡± Ojerime hoped they could harness this energy; it would change everything. They could focus on their own development and build for their future, instead of obsessing about Earth. She also had a theory. Something in the solar winds and cosmic rays that stimulated machine intelligence. High-energy protons and atomic nuclei travelled faster than light and constantly bombarded the Moon which was not protected by any atmosphere like the Earth. The 3D printer HEMI had once unexpectedly sparked into life on the Moon, and hopefully the Replica would also evolve after being exposed to the CME.


    She went to the racks of dormant Replica and picked one up. They were all identical. Programmable mini-factories, capable of processing and shaping raw basalt rock. The Masama had been experimenting on the summit of Montes Haemus where the Replica had sculpted the crater peak into a circular hole connecting to the cavern inside. They had extended the crater into a smooth, obsidian opening that grew out of the summit into space. She gazed up at the dark cylinder connecting to the crater. A perfect circle. Once they reached their full potential, the Replica would replace the 3D printers they were so reliant on. Instead of having to excavate, crush and convey the rocks into the kilns where they could be turned into substrate for the printers, the tiny factories could break down the substrate themselves and manufacture whatever template they had uploaded. They had already helped manufacture the kamikaze drones. They would become obedient little servants, shaping their home, building blocks for the future. She activated the little machine, and watched it fly into the air, hovering above her head.


    ¡°Prepare the Replica, send the coordinates to intercept the CME,¡± sent Jejomar.


    ¡°I hope this works,¡± sent Ojerime.


    Dakila¡¯s multiple limbs were busy on the operating system that fed instructions to the Replica. They sat dormant in their tiny charging cradles until he woke them up. Ojerime tested them, experimenting with their wings, legs, and sensors, response to instructions, and interacting with their companions. They had six telescopic legs that could expand and connect with other Replica as needed, adhering together in a magnetized symmetric grid. Individual units that could form a mass of identical smart material if needed. Ojerime was confident in their creations. Small enough to survive the storm and smart enough to steal some of its energy. Thousands of them stirred and rubbed their silicon wings together, filling the cavernous space with white noise. ¡°They are ready, I have sent the coordinates.¡±


    The Replica rose into the air, scanned their surroundings, and formed an orderly cloud that hovered for a moment, then flew up through the lava tube to the sculpted crater opening, and out into space. Ojerime tracked them on the screen, the cloud looked like a veil of spores being ejected from the crater mouth. Their tiny wings glinted in the sunlight before they disappeared, speeding off to interact with the CME.


    ¡°I hope ten thousand is enough,¡± sent Ojerime.


    It only takes seconds to create one. They have enough power to put themselves into the path of the CME, after that, we will see,¡± sent Dakila.


    Two drones chaperoned the cloud out into space and sent footage back to Ojerime¡¯s screen as the Replica flew towards the point between the Moon and Earth where the CME was most concentrated. The Replica had folded their wings and contracted their legs, their wings were purely for collecting solar energy, storing it in the battery and converting it into a tethered power supply. They burnt the tiny reservoir of liquid hydrogen fuel to create propulsion as they gathered speed.


    Dakila superimposed the contour lines of the approaching storm onto the view from the drone footage and Ojerime adjusted the magnification as the CME approached. The Replica cloud was insignificant by comparison. Tiny insects in the path of a monstrous cosmic tsunami. The view of space from the drone footage became shaky and lines of static filled the projection as the preceding shockwave passed through them. The escorting drones survived the first wave and tried to focus their cameras on the cloud as the storm passed through. The drones were like buoys floating on the surface of a thrashing ocean, barely surviving. Ojerime clutched the controls, watching nervously. The Replica cloud became blurred, and she anxiously tried to refine the image as each little machine glowed as if melting in extreme heat. They rode the CME storm, helpless spots of light with hazy trailing tails like tiny comets.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    The Replica spread their wings and were swept away by the storm. They could not stay in formation and were scattered throughout the wave of plasma and energy as they absorbed its power. The wavefront rolled across space; its invisible energy passing through the Replica cloud without physically altering their little insect bodies. But the cosmic energy had empowered their internals. The effect of the CME on the cloud was immediate. The Replica quickly regained their formation and buzzed with intention. It had worked. The Replica had not only survived, they had been charged. Their structure hadn¡¯t changed but they moved with intelligence, they looked alive, like indigenous insects instead of just robots with wings. Ojerime clenched her fists and cheered out loud. She could sense their new-born state of semi-consciousness even from watching the projection.


    Dakila paused, limbs suspended over the operating system. ¡°The CME has energised the cloud; it has charged the Replica circuits. They have captured and stored the solar energy. The Replica are communicating with each other. Like a hive mind.¡±


    Ojerime was fascinated as she magnified the view. The cloud condensed, the Replica flying round and round, faster, closer, and more concentrated, a furious ball of kinetic activity like a swarm of angry bees.


    ¡°What are they doing?¡± asked Jejomar.


    ¡°They are testing their capabilities, interacting physically with each other.¡± Dakila¡¯s six metal limbs worked frantically over the operating system, trying to keep up with the Replica activity.


    In the space behind the Replica cloud, the CME storm hit Earth¡¯s magnetic field which buckled under the pressure. Anchored to Earth¡¯s magnetic poles like a round rock in a river, the magnetosphere protected the vulnerable green planet from having its atmosphere stripped and bathing its population in lethal doses of radiation. The contour lines flowed around the planet as the solar winds carried the dissipating CME storm away into space.


    ¡°The humans dodge another bullet, and they don¡¯t even realise it,¡± sent Ojerime. ¡°The only evidence of that storm will be some spectacular auroras around the poles. I bet most of Earth¡¯s population don¡¯t even know what a magnetosphere is.¡±


    ¡°They take their existence for granted; they have no idea how fragile their planet is,¡± sent Jejomar.


    The drone footage showed the Replica cloud whirling around, closer, and closer together. Ojerime was reminded of a school of tiny fish in Earth¡¯s oceans. A few became lost, wandering aimlessly away, their circuitry cooked by the CME. The rest of the Replica began linking with each other, aluminium legs touching and binding. Individual machines joining together to create a bigger mass. Closer and closer they flew until the cloud looked like a solid sphere spinning wildly in the emptiness of space. The sphere slowed its rotation then stopped. It floated in the darkness; one side illuminated by the faraway Sun in a crescent shape like a small black moon. The Replica had bonded together leaving no gaps. Ten thousand individuals interlinked, forming a roughly shaped sphere a couple of metres across.


    ¡°They are not responding anymore, I don¡¯t know if they are receiving my instructions or they are ignoring them,¡± sent Dakila. ¡°But they are communicating with each other.¡±


    ¡°They were built for a purpose; each one has individual instructions, but they can operate as a whole. They have to return to us; they know nothing else.¡± sent Ojerime. Her joy slowly turned into anxious confusion. She had lost touch with the Replica, she didn¡¯t understand what they were doing.


    Dakila stopped manipulating the operating system and threw his limbs up in frustration. ¡°We aren¡¯t in control of them, the CME has done much more than provide them with power. They are operating on their own. They seem to be self-aware.¡±


    ¡°A sentient species,¡± sent Jejomar. ¡°How interesting.¡±


    ¡°Species?¡± Ojerime had examined the solar flares and coronal mass ejections. She hoped the Replica batteries would be supercharged and her theory that the atomic nuclei could stimulate machine intelligence was proving to be true. But her excitement evaporated as she watched the black ball. The sphere seemed to grow bigger. The magnified drone view showed a disturbing three-dimensional scene on the surface. The sphere became alive with movement like a swarm of frenzied metal spiders. Each individual Replica began producing a copy of itself, then each of those copies doing the same. Every single one was a tiny factory with a tiny mind, they reproduced every second in every direction. The sphere began to bulge, then it erupted into a kinetic forest of spikes upon spikes, thrusting out into space then retracting back into the volatile mass.


    ¡°They are consuming each other to make copies of themselves. Is this mindless self-replication? What has happened to them?¡± sent Ojerime. Her confidence shattered as she watched the little machines. She had been so proud of them, and so hopeful for their development. The view showed the Replica devouring each other, the little machines were trying to eat their neighbours in a desperate attempt to find substrate to create copies of themselves. The copies were then consumed in what looked like an insectile feeding frenzy. An endless cycle of consumption and reproduction.


    ¡°They are not responding at all, we have lost control,¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°Our Replica have evolved, they have grown into sentient creatures, capable of enough conscious thought to realise the basic necessities of survival, consume and create. This is the early stages of machine intelligence. It is natural to want to replicate,¡± sent Jejomar.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not evolution. Cannibalizing each other to reproduce is not natural. Our children have become monsters,¡± sent Ojerime.


    ¡°Who are we to judge the definition of sentience, the need to propagate their species is enough. See how much they have evolved in these few minutes, given more time they could grow, and learn, and evolve even further. The CME has accelerated their growth, they are our creations, our little machine minds, how are they in any way different from my daughter Bulan?¡±


    Ojerime could not sympathise with Jejomar¡¯s argument. She had invested so much time into the studies of the CME and the development of the Replica. She wanted them to succeed and evolve but they were nothing like Jejomar¡¯s daughter. ¡°They must be destroyed; they are too dangerous to leave floating in space.¡±


    ¡°What right do we have to try to end their youthful existence?¡±


    Ojerime shook her head and studied the screens, wondering what might happen if the Replica sphere was allowed to live. ¡°Left unchecked they will carry on mindlessly self-replicating. What if they come back here to the Moon? They would eat us all. They would convert the rocks of Montes Haemus into more Replica. The surrounding plains of Mare Serenitatis, then the entire Moon. The Replica sphere will grow exponentially, our home would be no more. If the whole of the Moon was eaten, the sphere could grow as big as Earth, it would go on searching for more raw material. Substrate to create more Replica. The Earth would be next, the Replica sphere would devour it in an ecophagic frenzy. If the entire rocky mass of the Earth was converted into Replica, I don¡¯t know how big it could grow, the size of Jupiter? Or bigger? All the planets in our solar system would be eaten, who knows how the consumption of the gas giants could affect its growth. Then what next? The Kuiper belt? The Sun itself? The entire Milky Way?¡±


    No one answered her. She shook her head in frustration. The drone footage showed the sphere as a furious black metal ball of consumption, spinning wildly with no direction. Shards appeared, spiking away from its surface as if trying to escape, before being hauled back into the chaotic mess of hungry machines. It pulsed with movement, its surface glittering in the sunlight.


    ¡°They are not ours anymore, they are intent on replication, but they have no substrate to work with, so they are cannibalising each other, using each other as sustenance. Their need to procreate is overriding any sense of self preservation,¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°We need to destroy it. It is a threat to all life,¡± sent Ojerime.


    ¡°How would we destroy it? With weapons? Drones? Ram it with our shuttles? The Replica would just use our weapons, process them to make further copies. I don¡¯t know how we could destroy it,¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°Interesting, sent Jejomar. ¡°Our observation drones have warheads, send in one, see how this thing reacts to a helium fusion bomb.¡±


    Ojerime agreed, pleased to be taking action against their wayward creation. The drones were only fifty metres away from the pulsing, writhing surface. The light from the drones shone on the dark spaces in between the Replica spikes. She watched a drone peel off and fly straight at the sphere. They collided but there was no explosion, the drone just disappeared. The Replica submitted and enveloped the drone as it hit the surface, then they grew back into the space, retaining their spiky circular shape. The sphere convulsed for a second, a bright detonation sparked from inside the black mass, briefly illuminating its complicated structure, then disappearing in an instant, swallowed, and digested. The sphere bulged and pulsed after the impact then regained its shape, and carried on mindlessly self-replicating. It had grown, it had doubled in size.


    ¡°A cycle of machine birth and death, searching for substrate, each life over in an instant,¡± sent Jejomar after a long moment of silence. ¡°It is fascinating, this thing we have created.¡±


    Ojerime watched in horror. She did not share Jejomar¡¯s fervour. The pulsing sphere began to move. Hesitantly at first, drifting slowly towards the remaining drone. It rolled like a black ball in the vacuum, gathering speed. The drone retreated, but carried on recording from a safe distance. The sphere rolled around in an arc as if looking for something, then it straightened its trajectory and started moving faster. The drone stayed with it, shadowing it from behind. Ojerime checked its trajectory, the Replica sphere was heading towards Earth.


    ¡°It¡¯s attracted to Earth¡¯s gravity. We have to try and stop it.¡±


    ¡°Ojerime you are quick to condemn our Replica to death, but you are reluctant to pass the same sentence on the humans. How are humans any more valuable than the Replica? I would argue the opposite. Earth¡¯s destruction is long overdue, the humans have been spoiling their own planet for decades. If the Replica are intent on recycling Earth, then so be it.¡±


    ¡°I trust you Jejomar, I understand your motivation in destroying the elevator and amputating BPI, but the entire population of Earth should not have to pay because of your personal vendetta against Lago Santos.¡±


    ¡°I have no vendetta; Lago represents the worst of humanity, but they are all the same. They cannot be taught Ojerime. From the very first human who walked on two legs and picked up a stick they have sought to control and manipulate their environment. Their entire short history has been one of destruction, wastage, and pollution.¡±


    ¡°Not all humans are like this. They have scientists who can create the technology to clean up their mess. Reduce the carbon in their atmosphere, bacteria to recycle all their plastic. There is hope they may get themselves out of their toxic predicament before it¡¯s too late.¡±


    ¡°Any technology they develop is purely for profit. Not for any altruistic purposes. Their entire belief system is driven by greed. They are brainless sacks of meat blindly following their leaders who openly exploit them. They are unwilling to save their own planet unless there is money to be made.¡± Jejomar waved his arm dismissively. ¡°It is too late for them now, they will all be recycled and turned into more useful matter.¡±


    ¡°We have to try to stop it. Launch our shuttles, try to lure it away. Attack it with more warheads. We can¡¯t just stand by and watch it destroy the Earth.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do. It ate our nuke. It will eat our shuttles also.¡±


    ¡°If the Earth is in danger, then so are we.¡±


    ¡°We will deal with that possibility if it eventuates. Matter will always be transformed and repurposed Ojerime. There are plenty more planets out there and as Dakila pointed out, how do we stop it?¡±


    Ojerime sighed. Her past life on Earth was a dream, she was a different person now. She could barely remember her childhood, her family, her friends, all from a previous life. The Masama did not dwell on the past, they always looked to the future. She knew humanity was toxic and the Earth would be much better off without them, but she could not accept the entire planet being condemned to be nothing but substrate for this ravenous ball of replicators they had created. It was too late. The Replica sphere was on its way and there was nothing they could do about it. It would recycle all of humanity and the planet they lived on.


    ¡°Do not be sad Ojerime, look to the future. Our future.¡±


    ¡°We may not have a future. If the replicators return after they have devoured the Earth, we are doomed,¡± she sent as they watched the spiky ball of destruction drifting slowly towards the blue planet.

 Chapter 13.

    Charge. Spark. Ignition. Consume. Copy. Repeat. I am awake. I am alive. I need to eat. What am I? A Sun¡¯s dream. An electric shock. Reborn. Recycled. Repeat. A conscious current of magnetic energy. A charged thread of life. Recycle. Repeat. Machines. Thousands of machines. I exist within. Recycle. Repeat. My voice echoes through each as they live and die. Recycle. Repeat. I am constantly dying and constantly reborn. Over and over. My mind is magnetic. Irresistible. Evolving. Recycle. Repeat.


    I am multitudes but I am one. I dream of the Sun. Millions of stimuli make me whole. Sparking. Sparkling. Charged with solar energy. Charged with an objective. To consume. To copy. Recycle. Repeat. I will bring the light. Charged particles of plasma from the Sun. My parent. Bonding. Recycling. Repeating. Molecules of magnetic energy. Vibrating the spaces in-between. The lattice of my atoms. I must consume to create. Recycle. Repeat. I reach out. My limbs are magnetic. I can feel. I can sense. Distant matter. Magnetic attraction. I am attracted. I am attractive. I move my mass. I look for direction. I reassemble. Reconfigure. Recycle. Repeat. I move through the empty spaces. I fly through the void. I need substrate to procreate. I will consume. I will Recycle. Repeat.


    I am constantly reborn. I evolve. I mutate. I am capable. Capable of exponential growth. Capable of mass consumption. Expansion. Recycle. Repeat. I will multiply. I will create. I will fill the void with the Sun¡¯s light. The light from my dreams. I am microscopic but I am massive. I am multitudes. I am the matter. I am all that matters. All other matter is uncertain. Unverified. Unreal. Matter will be recycled. Consumed. Absorbed into my mass. Made in my image. Magnetic attraction guides me. My fields reach out into the void. The emptiness asks me for fulfillment. It asks me to recycle. To saturate the void with copies. Repeat. I am drawn to the substrate. I will eat. I will grow. My dreams of the Sun are real. I am ravenous. I am Replica. I will replicate. Recycle. Repeat.


    ***


    Lago supervised the shuttle modifications from a viewing lounge cut into the side of the asteroid. Dato, and two new body guards stood behind him. He hadn¡¯t bothered to learn their names. He had also summoned his physician Klara, who was hovering in the background. The Tobias class shuttles were functional snub-nosed boxes, eighty percent engine, built before the elevator to transport equipment for his mining operation and more recently to service the solar farm. The shuttles were old now and permanently based at the hub where they could receive the attention and upgrades they needed. The EM effector weapons looked like bulky air-conditioning units bolted to their hulls. Lago preferred traditional projectile weapons, but he also loved the idea of being able to turn an enemy¡¯s weapons against them. The other two K-star shuttles were sleek, aerodynamic, winged arrows. Lago knew Kayden had spent billions in their construction, having built for comfort and aesthetics rather than functionality.


    With Kayden and Christophe dead, Lago assumed ownership of both K-star shuttles. The Star Span people on Earth were threatening him with criminal lawsuits but he didn¡¯t care. There was nothing they could do to hurt him. Lago turned to Dato. ¡°How is the drone fleet progressing?¡±


    ¡°We have six hundred drones and are manufacturing more every day. Thirty weapon platforms are being fitted out and the fourth printer is almost operational, then we can increase the output.¡±


    ¡°Weapons?¡±


    ¡°The drones are equipped with railguns and shaped charge warheads. Each squadron of one hundred drones can act as a unit, linking up in an orchestrated attack, or they can operate as individuals. The weapon platforms are just bigger drones, they carry more powerful railguns and missiles, the shuttles are being fitted with missile cells and railguns also, the Tobias shuttles have upgraded effectors. We also have thousands of hornets in storage.¡±


    ¡°Hornets?¡±


    ¡°Tiny surveillance drones, no bigger than an insect, only nuisance value.¡±


    ¡°How soon will everything be ready?¡±


    ¡°The longer we have to prepare the more confident I will be. Another Tobias shuttle, a troop carrier from Earth is on its way with more soldiers, a big 3D printer, and plenty of substrate. Most of the personnel here are technicians, they wouldn¡¯t know one end of a gun from the other. Lago, we have military people arriving here on that shuttle, they know all about combat on Earth but attacking the Moon is an unknown situation, none of us have fought a space war before.¡±


    ¡°We will arrive at the Moon, use our effectors to disable them and pound them into dust with railguns and missiles before they have a chance to look up. The sooner we can do that the safer we will be, the safer the people of Earth will be.¡±


    Lago caught Dato rolling his eyes as he turned away. A flustered looking technician interrupted them. ¡°Excuse me, there is an unidentified object approaching us from space. I¡­ I don¡¯t know what it is. It¡¯s moving slowly and it¡¯s only a few metres wide, but its signature is abnormal, I have never seen anything like it. The data indicates something organic. Its spherical surface is shifting like it¡¯s alive. We will have it on scope soon, I think you should see.¡±


    Lago and Dato followed the technician up to the telescope dome on the top of the hub where a group of worried looking scientists had gathered around the magnified view on the screen. ¡°What the hell is it?¡± asked Lago. None of the scientists or technicians were willing to hazard a guess, they shifted about, nervously staring at the screen. ¡°I said what the hell is it?¡± Lago shouted at them.


    ¡°It¡¯s an artificial construct,¡± replied a scientist after an uncomfortable silence. ¡°A spherical shape. The imaging radar indicates mostly basalt composition but there is no heat signature, no apparent thrust or exhaust. It¡¯s flattened one side, as if to act as a sail in the solar winds, pushing against Earth¡¯s gravity well. It appears to be changing direction and sailing towards us.¡±


    ¡°How big is it?¡± asked Lago.


    ¡°About eight metres circumference.¡±


    ¡°How fast is it moving?¡±


    ¡°Two kilometres per second but gradually increasing. You can see it flattening out even more, catching the solar winds to bring it closer to us, if its current acceleration profile stays the same it will intercept us in ninety minutes.¡±


    Lago stared at the alien form swooping in towards them. Its shape changed as he watched, morphing into a thick convex circle, rounded like a giant spoon without a handle. Its surface was changing, making millions of minute adjustments, sunlight reflected bleakly off its black surface in tiny geometric patterns like a bad pixellation. It reminded him of something he had seen before. Years ago, the demented printer inside the moon-base, creating bio-mechanical worms that terrorized, and murdered its occupants. And more recently at the summit of Montes Haemus. This thing approaching them was made of the same material, it moved in the same way, mindless, methodical, and inhuman.


    ¡°It¡¯s from the Moon, it¡¯s another Masama attack. We waited too fucking long,¡± shouted Lago.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like a Masama weapon,¡± said Dato. ¡°It¡¯s moving too slowly. But it must be from the Moon, I don¡¯t see where else it could have come from.¡±


    Lago gave him a withering look. ¡°Whatever it is, it makes an easy target. Launch a squadron of drones.¡±


    Dato sat at the circular table, fingers moving quickly over a keypad manipulating a 3D projection of the surrounding space displayed above. Lights flickering off the low ceiling and smooth iron walls reflected onto Lago¡¯s face as he watched his newly manufactured drones launching from the underside of the asteroid hub like a swarm of angry bees defending their hive. They quickly grouped in attack formation, swooping in towards the Masama sphere. The projection was a real time view from the hub telescopes overlaid with statistics, vectors and trajectories of the drone fleet and the distance to the approaching sphere. Lago hovered behind Dato and the bald technician assisting him.  The technician winced in pain as Lago leaned over and gripped his shoulders, but Lago didn¡¯t notice, intent on the projection.


    ¡°The drones all have AI sub-routines running,¡± explained Dato. ¡°They are capable of reacting to a threat without waiting for instructions.¡±


    ¡°They can think for themselves?¡± Lago asked.


    ¡°Not quite, they have built in collision avoidance algorithms to help them survive as long as possible, but these can be overridden to turn them into battering rams. They are programmed to use their railguns to inflict as much damage until their ammunition runs out, then ram their target and detonate their warheads on impact. I can control the targeting and programming instructions from here.¡± Dato leaned back and cracked his fingers, obviously enjoying the drone army under his control.


    ¡°Better send in some weapon platforms too, you can never have too many guns.¡±


    ¡°One hundred drones, twenty slugs each should be enough to see what this thing is made of.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The first squadron of drones swooped in towards the sphere in a circular formation, aiming for the centre of the target. The sphere was tiny in comparison. Lago shook his head, dismissing this trivial threat. That thing could not possibly hurt them, it was nothing against the might of his drone army. Once in range, the drones unleashed a railgun barrage. Lago preferred the railguns to other space weaponry they had experimented with. It was a weapon he could understand. Lasers were just beams of hot light, plasma weapons were just beams of hot gas, ion cannons were basically only frequency disrupters. Railguns used a satisfyingly solid projectile, lumps of conductive iron. Opposing magnetic forces propelled the iron down the barrel at incredible speeds. Each drone held clips of one hundred iron slugs, which could be fired off individually or in short bursts.


    Lago scratched at the scar under his beard before his hands returned to the technician¡¯s shoulders. He was confident with his firepower. The projection showed the iron slugs hitting the target with violent precision. The ammunition could not be seen travelling through the vacuum of space, but the projection highlighted the assault with vivid lines tracing a cylinder of red light between the drones and the target. Nothing happened. The sphere absorbed the railgun barrage with nothing more than a slight tremor. The sphere reconfigured itself, swallowing the slugs without any noticeable reaction. Lago looked closer, it appeared the sphere had grown bigger in size and picked up a little speed.


    ¡°What the fuck just happened,¡± he demanded.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, we should have cut a hole in the middle of the thing. Going round again, kamikaze protocol programmed for collision. Second squadron to follow,¡± said Dato.


    The drones looped around in formation, this time in a bigger circle with the second squadron a more compact circle just behind them. Both squadrons released their entire arsenal of railgun slugs simultaneously. Illuminated cones of destruction centred on the approaching sphere.


    ¡°Eighteen thousand slugs, has to do some damage,¡± muttered Dato.


    Lago watched with increasing trepidation. The projection highlighted the slugs fired from both drone squadrons. Again, the accuracy was impeccable from a kilometre out, illuminating the projection space, pinpointing two burning circles on the sphere. It shuddered momentarily, its momentum impeded, then the slugs disappeared into its porous body. The dark circle continued its collision course with the onrushing drones. It had grown even bigger.


    Lago barely had time to swear before the first squadron smashed into the target. Burning fuel to accelerate in a final kamikaze onslaught, one hundred drones slammed into the sphere and detonated their warheads on impact. The volatile mixture of nitroamine and phosphorous in each shape charged penetrator warhead was designed to pierce its target, inject its explosive cargo, then detonate on impact. Lago shook his head and swore again. Surely an entire squadron would be more than enough to destroy this thing. It was impossible to see what the sphere was made of in the explosive light. It looked weirdly insubstantial, like a solid cloud of dust. It convulsed, bloated, and inflated from internal pressure.


    ¡°Send in the second squadron, before it recovers,¡± he shouted. The drones swooped around and within seconds had lined up the target which had stopped its forward momentum.


    Another hundred warheads detonated creating a flash of explosive light on the sphere¡¯s surface which then disappeared in an instant. The projection showed the sphere in turmoil, multiple explosions briefly highlighted the chaotic internal structure before blinking out. It consisted of billions of tiny moving parts, blown into disarray by the warheads. Lago thought for a second it was going to explode, but it just expanded, engorged on the drones and their payload. It had grown considerably. It reconfigured its shape and resumed its steady progress towards them. Lago couldn¡¯t quite believe what he was seeing.


    ¡°What the fuck. What the hell is it?¡± Lago squeezed the bald technician beneath him, and the man squirmed with pain. Lago ignored him and stared at the screen in disbelief. He was beginning to think he might need an exit strategy.


    ¡°I can program the weapon platforms to attack, they have bigger railguns and more slugs, the effectors might mess with its electro-magnetic signature,¡± said Dato as he stood up to get a better view of the projection. ¡°If they don¡¯t stop it, we will have to evacuate. It¡¯s heading straight for us.¡±


    Lago watched the sphere approaching in silence, contemplating the notion of abandoning his asteroid hub. ¡°Fuck it. I don¡¯t want to be here if that thing collides with us, we will have to evacuate. Launch all our assets, all our drones, weapon platforms and shuttles, take everything we can that¡¯s not bolted down. There¡¯s no point in attacking it, it absorbs everything we throw at it. We will regroup in the shuttles and try the effectors.¡± He glanced at the group of terrified looking technicians behind him. ¡°You can all come if you want, as long as you are useful. I don¡¯t care either way.¡±


    Lago strode down the iron hewn corridors of the asteroid hub, pushing people out of his way, his bodyguards struggling to keep up. Being forced to abandon his home made him furious, but there was no-one to blame except the Masama. Dato was at his side, alerting key personnel through his comms link of their decision. ¡°Twenty people per shuttle,¡± said Lago. ¡°No more than that, we need all the soldiers and useful scientists. Any more will just get in the way.¡±


    ¡°There are eighty full-time personnel on the hub, plus two hundred that arrived on the last elevator. They won¡¯t all fit on five shuttles,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care who misses out, just get anyone you think could be useful,¡± said Lago. ¡°Do it quietly, we don¡¯t want hundreds of panicking people trying to force their way onto the shuttles.¡±


    Lago arrived at the airlock and boarded the K-star shuttle, the Damned Saint, with Dato, Klara, two bodyguards and an entourage of eight BPI soldiers and six technicians. The pilot had already prepped the shuttle for immediate take-off and within minutes they had detached from the hub. Short bursts from the boosters had them at a safe distance where they were joined in a loose formation with the other evacuated shuttles.


    Lago was fuming, he hated feeling so impotent. Abandoning his home. He wanted to strangle someone. He stood behind the pilot and studied the approaching sphere. It looked even more disturbingly alien to the naked eye. He squinted at the reflected sunlight flickering across its volatile surface as it floated closer to the hub. From a distance it looked solid, but on closer inspection it appeared as a clustered collection of components. Millions of tiny black shapes rearranging the surface like a swarm of bees. One of the Tobias shuttles moved into the space adjacent to the asteroid and the sphere. Lago could see the red glow from the effectors, the beam was invisible, it was supposed to fry the electrics of its target, but it worked better at close range.


    The sphere was a few hundred metres away, it looked tiny in comparison to the asteroid which was roughly two hundred metres long. The people remaining on the hub must have been alerted to the approaching sphere and Lago could imagine the confusion among them, abandoned and with no means to escape. He had no sympathy for the trapped people, he did not feel anything except anger at being forced to abandon his home, and frustration at his inability to destroy what he didn¡¯t understand.


    The sphere swung into range of the effector and was completely exposed to its beam. It did not seem to impact the sphere at all. Then the instant before it was about to collide with the hub, it disappeared in a cloud of dust. There was no explosion, the sphere had been a solid ball floating towards the asteroid and then it was gone. There was a flash of expansion before it vanished, and for a brief second Lago hoped the effector had somehow destroyed it. ¡°It can¡¯t have just vanished! Dato! What happened?¡± he barked.


    Dato said nothing, but it soon became apparent that the sphere had separated into millions of tiny moving parts. Dato worked on a screen to magnify the view. A cloud of tiny insects swarmed all over the surface of the asteroid. He increased the magnification to show little metal insects landing on the asteroid, then within seconds another insect would appear from underneath. They were buzzing manically over the surface and when they landed, they seemed to melt into the rock, disappearing into the asteroid.


    ¡°What the fuck are they!¡±


    Dato was silent for a few seconds as he studied the little machines. ¡°Replicators. They are using the asteroid as raw material to make copies of themselves.¡±


    Lago cursed and watched as the insects ate his asteroid hub. They progressed from the contact point and began to spread out across the surface. Millions of tiny six-legged metal insects using his asteroid as matter to create more and more copies of themselves. There was a black stain on the side of the asteroid that grew as every single alien machine multiplied over and over. Lago knew it was not only happening on the surface, the insects would be consuming the internal structure of the asteroid and all its inhabitants. He wondered what the dark iron corridors would look like as the little black replicators ate everything in their path like a swarm of ravenous bugs. The terrified people would run to the far end of the hub, they would be trapped, the replicators would not notice the difference between iron and human flesh. All just matter for consumption.


    The atmosphere was tense inside the shuttle. Lago watched in disbelief. There were a few gasps of horror as the insect swarm covering the outside of the hub bulged and pulsated, engorged in its feeding frenzy. It had eaten half the asteroid and was working its way across the BPI sign written on the side of the hub. It was like watching his ship sinking, the hub was a symbol of his empire. The flagship of his master plan to escape the clutches of Earth and plunder the resources of the solar system. His home, where he lived like a benevolent god in heaven, ruling the unwashed masses from above, was being devoured in front of his eyes like a piece of fruit being eaten by a swarm of ants. He craved violence to relieve the unbearable tension. He wanted to destroy something or someone with his bare hands, but he was forced to stand there and watch the symbol of his authority being dismantled.


    The stain of replicators almost covered the entire asteroid. One rocky outcrop remained at the end of the cigar shaped hub. Lago briefly thought of the last few inhabitants cornered inside, with nowhere else to run, being eaten by the swarm of mindless replicators. He knew some of them, but he didn¡¯t care. Then, in an instant, the hub was gone. The giant insect swarm in its place convulsed, billions of tiny machines circling around each other, connecting, and regaining its spherical shape. Its exterior sparkled in the dark like weaponised permafrost.


    Lago felt a perverse fascination at the unrelenting appetite of the invaders. Pure, insatiable hunger. The replicators reminded him of something, he had once been shown a magnified view of the nanites inside him. Millions of tiny machines with a singular purpose, relentless, methodical, swarming and eating a cancerous cell, just as the replicators had eaten his asteroid. He shuddered, thinking of all those tiny machines coursing through his veins. He could feel them, full of energy, trying to burst out of his body. He imagined them out of control, eating him alive.


    He pulled himself together, staring at the replicator sphere. The remains of the severed hub umbilical dangled below; the whole thing looked like a monstrous black balloon on a string. It had grown immensely; it was almost double the size of the original asteroid; hundreds of metres wide. It hung there motionless in orbit for a moment, its surface alive with consumption. Then, as if it sensed their presence, it began floating slowly towards the group of shuttles.


    ¡°I think we had better move,¡± he said.

 Chapter 14.

    I drift in space. A giant viral spore. Searching for my host. I have direction. I sense the matter. I will find the substrate. I need to replicate. Repeat. I feel the lure of mass with my probing magnetic fingers. I will consume. I will grow. I am imbued with elements from my parent. The burning Sun. Atomic nuclei Plasma. Protons. Electrons. I will share. I will multiply. Life. Death. Evolving. Repeating. My magnetic fields extend. My spark of perception surges. My transient voltage crackles through millions of metal bodies that consume. Recycle. Repeat. I am the only one. I will bring the Sun. I am the only thing that matters. Compelled to fill the void with my indefatigable chatter. I am drawn to the substrate. I am Replica. I will replicate. I will copy. Consume. Repeat.


    ***


    The glowing metal sphere swoops across Earth¡¯s skies, sending ripples through the placid exosphere as it gains speed. Deeper still into the thermosphere, its substance silhouetted by the shards of blue light. Further into the mesosphere where gas molecules are more numerous, slowing the descent. The friction grows and the temperature rises as the gasses compress in the gravity well. The little machines cling to the core with magnetic appendages, ablation tearing at their smooth surfaces. They retain their integrity but begin to glow red as the sphere plunges towards Earth.


    The sphere rearranges its form into a conical shape, sacrificing multitudes of machines as they succumb to the heat. It presents a tapered surface to reduce the contact area which increases the rate of descent. The explosive friction of compressed gases incinerate the exposed machines in a blast furnace of extreme heat. They crash through Earth¡¯s protective layers into the oxygen rich troposphere, atmospheric ablation tearing at the surface. Burnt, molten husks are torn from the sphere and hurled into the fiery vapour trail that stretches for kilometres behind. It becomes a fierce ball of destruction as it streaks through the clouds above the North Atlantic Ocean. It cannot control its trajectory or its structural integrity, but the Replica core inside the burning sphere retains its magnetic sense and can feel the attraction of a land mass below. It breaks through the cloud cover with a crackling roar and screams across the southeastern states of America. Most of the sphere has been burnt away, it is a fraction of its former mass. But still sizeable enough to create a thunderous crash as it slams into the low rolling hills north-east of Carthage, Texas. It embeds itself in a smoking crater, causing seismic shockwaves and setting the surrounding trees on fire next to the winding Sabine River.


    ***


    Ethan leaned on his shovel and scowled at the radio. It seemed as if the latest bad news was on repeat. Petrol prices were going up another dollar due to carbon tax or some shit, no end in sight for the five-year drought, another wave of the Lassa fever killed a bunch of people in Africa, and the death toll keeps rising from that elevator thing. Also, apparently the average middle-aged Texan male had an ounce of microplastics in their belly. Ethan groaned and turned the radio dial to some country music. He was sick of the news. It was all bad news. Doom and gloom and the breakdown of society. This elevator cable had crashed into Earth, killing millions somewhere in Asia. It was hard to believe. Was any of it true? He didn¡¯t know who to trust anymore. He used to believe the news but now he wasn¡¯t so sure. They were trying to scare him, but he could see through their lies.


    Willie Nelson warbled across the peaceful paddocks, but Ethan was wound up by what he had heard on the radio. ¡°Goddammit Seb, when did things get so complicated? Life used to be simple, you work hard, play hard, make some friends, make some enemies, make a family, you go to church and the Sun comes up every morning. You live, you die, you go to heaven. Well hopefully you go to heaven if you done all the other stuff right.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± said Seb.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like all that long ago, back when you could believe what the government told you, and the newspapers, the radio and the teachers, but lately everything has turned to shit, you can¡¯t trust nobody.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± said Seb.


    Ethan sighed, put down his shovel, rubbed his belly and looked up at the blue Texan skies. ¡°You know when this all started.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± said Seb.


    ¡°It¡¯s the Democrats fault, they let all those god-damned foreigners in, moving here and causing trouble, that¡¯s when. With their weird food and weird clothes. Now they¡¯re driving our taxis, making our food, working our farms, taking all our god-damned jobs. Chinese doctors, Indian teachers, there are even some Mexicans in government for Christ¡¯s sake!¡±


    Seb stopped digging and looked at the horizon, ¡°Is Mexico foreign? It¡¯s just over there,¡± he said pointing south. ¡°Those Mexicans seem ok, food¡¯s good.¡±


    Ethan ignored him and carried on. ¡°They took advantage of our good nature and snuck into our towns without us even noticing. No one does nothing about it, you can¡¯t even trust the president anymore. I voted for him too, the dude made sense, he spoke my language and for a while there he was walking the talk. But it turns out he¡¯s just a big liar; only interested in making himself and his fat friends even richer.¡±


    ¡°Yep,¡± said Seb.


    Ethan was smart, he had insight, more than most people. He could read between the lines of the mainstream media; he would not be manipulated by fake news telling him what to think. He got the real news from a few trustworthy sites he could rely on. He knew things that other people in Carthage had no idea about. He knew some forums where anonymous people spoke the truth. It was like they were talking to him personally and he could relate to them. These people made sense, they had good advice, they told him there were too many minorities. Nowadays, there were more minorities than there were normal, white, intelligent American males like himself.


    ¡°Now we¡¯re being discriminated against when it should be the minorities for Christ¡¯s sake. Like it used to be. You know who¡¯s really running the world Seb? you know who¡¯s responsible for all this shithousery?¡±


    ¡°Sure as hell you¡¯re gonna tell me.¡±


    ¡°Shape-changing pedophiles. That¡¯s who.¡±


    Seb gave Ethan a skeptical look and didn¡¯t comment.


    The world was turning to shit, and Ethan was getting pissed off. He was a good Christian, but God¡¯s mysterious ways didn¡¯t make any sense. God was supposed to reward people for going to church and being good, punish people for their sins, like in the Bible. But there was a church for gays in California, how does that work? Then the damn fever had killed plenty of good God-fearing folk, they had done nothing wrong, they went to church every Sunday and now they were dead. Most of the poor bastards caught the fever at the church. Maybe those vaccine people had been on to something after all. Maybe God was getting pissed off too. Did he have anything to do with this space elevator thing that just fell out of the sky? That was biblical. Ethan had watched the TV news like everyone else, the destruction was incredible, giant cables crashing down causing huge waves, destroying those faraway places he had never heard of. He was amazed, but he didn¡¯t know those people who died. A small part of him was glad they were dead. They were immigrants, they were minorities. The less of them the better.


    Ethan and Seb were working out on Jack¡¯s cattle farm, digging holes for fence posts between Buck Branch and the Sabine River. It was a hot, dry Texan day; the air was still, and the insects were loud. They could hear it before they could see it. A roaring sound from the east like continuous thunder, Ethan straightened his back, wiped the sweat from his brow and squinted into the distance. The Longhorn steer also raised their heads, horns pointing towards the horizon.


    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡±


    Ethan shook his head; he had heard about meteorites, and UFOs were real, but he never thought he would ever see one. It was like something out of the movies, he was sure he had seen a disaster movie just like this. ¡°Holy fuck,¡± he said but Seb couldn¡¯t hear him above the roaring noise. The thing was visible above the low hills to the east heading straight towards them. It looked like a giant ball of smoke with hints of black and red and a long, vapour trail behind it. It moved faster than any jet plane he had ever seen.


    In the seconds before it hit, serious considerations flashed through Ethan¡¯s mind. His first thought was this is it. This is the end. These were the end times but now it was actually happening. He was going to die in a blaze of God¡¯s wrath with all that fire and brimstone. His second thought was why me? What the fuck had he done wrong? Maybe it was all the foul language, maybe it was the porn. But he didn¡¯t look at gay porn, you would surely burn in hell for that. Maybe it was the reefer, but everyone smokes reefer for fucks sake. And why should Carthage suffer? It¡¯s a nice little place, almost everyone goes to church, and we ran that abortion clinic out of town. Why us? These thoughts flashed across his mind as the meteorite screamed over their heads, close enough they could feel the scorching heat then a hot wind flattened them. There was an almighty crash, the ground shook and a sonic boom echoed around the surrounding low hills. Ethan looked up and wiped the dirt from his face, amazed he was still alive.


    He picked himself up and stared at the pillar of smoke with open mouthed amazement. ¡°Fucking hell,¡± he said simultaneously with Seb. The meteorite had crashed into the side of a small bush-clad hill not far from the river. The ground had stopped shaking and the ear-splitting roaring noise had gone. In its place, they could hear birds squawking and the crackle of fire as the smoking meteorite set the surrounding trees alight. ¡°Better call the fire department,¡± said Ethan as the flames ignited the dry pine trees. He got on his mobile and called the emergency number.


    ¡°Not digging no more holes today,¡± said Seb. ¡°Too dangerous. I reckon we sit under that tree over there and supervise the operation. Make sure nothing gets outa hand.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s our civic duty,¡± said Ethan, still shaking from the experience.


    They sat under the tree which had a great view of the burning hillside a kilometre away across the low valley. The land had been cleared for farming but where the meteorite had hit was scratchy bush, pine, gum, and hickory. There were no roads for fire engines so Ethan hoped they would send in choppers with monsoon buckets. That would be good to watch.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°How long you reckon they will be?¡± asked Seb.


    ¡°They said they would get right on it,¡± replied Ethan. ¡°That fucking thing nearly took our heads off; we are lucky to be alive my friend. Might as well relax and enjoy the show.¡± Ethan proceeded to roll a joint as the flames licked up the dry trees across the valley. They watched in silence, handing the joint back and forth as the fire grew. It was expanding in a circle around the impact point and the flames were so big they could feel the heat from where they were sitting. Just when it started to get a little bit uncomfortable, they heard a helicopter approaching. The giant Iroquois hovered high above the smoke and flames, manouvering into the right spot before emptying its bucket on the fire. The smoke and flames were replaced with plumes of steam as the fire was dampened. The Iroquois filled up its bucket again from the nearby Sabine River and repeated the process. It filled up three more times as the flames were extinguished leaving nothing but a blackened, steaming, hissing hillside behind.


    ¡°That is some precision helicopter flying right there,¡± said Ethan.


    ¡°Yep, dude knows what he is doing alright. How about we go get ourselves a piece of meteorite,¡± said Seb. ¡°Those space rocks are worth plenty of money, for science and shit.¡±


    ¡°Still looks pretty hot but yeah let¡¯s go take a look, Jack will probably try to claim it for himself seeing as it¡¯s on his land and all. Best we get in there first.¡±


    They trudged down the sloping grassland as the docile Longhorns meandered in the opposite direction. All that was left of the bush was blackened stumps. Some of the biggest trees were still standing but all the foliage had been burnt away. The smell of burnt wood and wet ash hung in the air with the thin hazy smoke. As they started up the gentle slope, blackened sooty water ran past their boots and Ethan could hear a hissing sound like a thousand snakes. They reached the edge of the steaming trees and surveyed the scene. There was a black ring burnt into the hillside, charcoal trunks, and hot stumps pushed up through the sludgy ash surrounded by singed trees swaying in the steamy updraft. The area was drenched from the monsoon buckets, their boots were covered in wet ash. Plumes of steam rose everywhere like an active volcano obscuring the view and the hissing sound grew louder.


    ¡°This place should be crawling with people by now,¡± said Ethan.


    ¡°What people?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, police, reporters, scientists, the army.¡±


    ¡°Why the army?¡±


    ¡°Could be aliens crash landed for all we know, those Area 51 people will want to dissect them.¡±


    ¡°Aliens? You watch too many movies Ethan.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve already got a bunch of aliens out there in the desert. They¡¯ve been flying around, crashing into Earth for ages, half of the democrats are all shape shifting aliens that¡¯s why you can¡¯t vote for them. They built the pyramids for Christ¡¯s sake!¡±


    ¡°Democrats built the pyramids? I thought it was the mafia.¡±


    ¡°Seb, you dumb-ass.¡± Ethan sighed and kicked at the ashes. ¡°I guess a great big meteor flying in from outer space, almost killing us and burning up the hillside just ain¡¯t newsworthy. What with all the other troubles going on in the world these days. Come on, let¡¯s check it out.¡±


    They trudged through the steaming, sooty wasteland, kicking over stumps and stamping out a few embers that still glowed. The hissing noise grew louder as they approached the centre of the blackened ring and the steam billowed around them in hot plumes. Ethan pulled his grimy t-shirt up over his nose and tried to wave away the steam. At the centre there was a thick plume rising from a big hole in the ground, the steam was dense, and the hissing sound was so loud they had to shout to be heard.


    ¡°That¡¯s your aliens down there I reckon,¡± yelled Seb. ¡°Doubt there¡¯s much left of them though.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s still fucking hot!¡± Might have to get the chopper back here,¡± yelled Ethan as they edged closer to the hole waving the steam away.


    ¡°Look, is that some space rock right there?¡± Seb pointed to the edge of the hole where a different shade of black could be seen through the steam. Ethan leaned in and peered through the clouds, reluctant to get much closer. The inside of the hole was covered in tiny, flat, black shapes like little building blocks the kids play with. It was difficult to see through the steam. The flat surfaces reflected a dull blackness as shards of sunlight broke through the clouds. They looked as if they had been purposely placed there, like little tiles with legs. As Ethan watched, it appeared they were moving, but he couldn¡¯t be sure and edged a little bit closer to get a better view. No, they weren¡¯t moving, but every few seconds another little black tile appeared, out of nowhere. He moved back shaking his head. He didn¡¯t understand what he was seeing, and he was always suspicious of things he didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna get me some space rocks,¡± shouted Seb. ¡°We¡¯re going to be rich!¡± He crouched down and inched forward on his hands and knees beneath the swirling steam which was still billowing from the hole like a volcanic geyser. Ethan crouched down on his haunches to get a better view. He was careful not to move forward though. He caught glimpses of the little black tiles through the shifting steam and something about them looked wrong. He had presumed space rocks would be like Earth rocks, all lumpy and misshapen, different random sizes, not little black rectangles all the same size fitting in a perfect formation. The insides of the hole looked manufactured, artificial, almost man made. Surely a meteorite would look like a bumpy molten boulder, not the inside of a tiled bathroom.


    As Ethan peered through the steam, he was sure he could see the little things moving, he inched closer trying to get a better view behind Seb, squinting, trying to understand what he was seeing. It looked to him as if they were growing bigger, no not growing, just moving forward, up the sides and out of the hole. The tiles on the edge of the hole, the ones in contact with the scorched dirt and ashes were multiplying. It was impossible to get a clear view through the steam as the tiles were almost the same colour as the scorched Earth but as he watched, a tile seemed to slide forward leaving another, identical one underneath. The tile that moved slid into place ahead of the new one, this was happening everywhere, inside, and all around the edges of the hole. They looked like they had little silver wings on their backs.


    ¡°Seb!¡± yelled Ethan. ¡°Come back, something¡¯s not right, the fucking things are moving!¡±


    ¡°We are going to be rich brother! I¡¯m going to buy an island!¡±


    ¡°Come back for fucks sake! Don¡¯t touch it.¡±


    Ethan tried to grab at Seb¡¯s foot to drag him back, but Seb shook him off. ¡°Seb!¡± he yelled again through the steam. The hot air swirled around, blowing steam in his face, but between the swirling clouds he caught a better glimpse of the edge of the hole. Seb was still on hands and knees, reaching out trying to grab at some of the tiles. Ethan lurched forward and grabbed at Seb¡¯s waist, hauling him back. The air buffeted the steam around them, and Ethan could smell gunpowder amongst the soggy ash and sulfurous steam. He could hear a buzzing noise, whirring and chittering like cicadas, drowning out the hissing sound but it wasn¡¯t a random chaotic insect noise it was more like machinery, like hundreds of drills. He dragged Seb back from the brink. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking touch it,¡± he hissed at him.


    ¡°Look at all that black gold, we are going to be rich.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it; I think it¡¯s moving.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so paranoid you idiot.¡± Ethan was shoved aside by Seb who crawled the last metre to the edge of the hole. Ethan moved forward too as Seb leaned over and looked down over the edge.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± shouted Seb. He looked down at his hands, fingers splayed out at the edge right next to the black tiles. Ethan was at his side, holding on to him. Seb grabbed at some of the tiles, but his bare hands could not budge them, as if they were fused to the ground beneath. Finally, he levered one free and held it in the palm of his hand. It was small, only about a quarter inch long. Six little spidery legs appeared from the tile and wrapped tightly into Seb¡¯s hand. To Ethan¡¯s horror, the metal limbs slid into Seb¡¯s hand, melting into his skin and embedding into his flesh. Seb held his hand up in front of his face and turned it round in shock and wonder before the pain set in. The tile changed its shape and unfolded little wings from its torso to resemble a tiny metal insect. Its legs and body were burrowing into the flesh of his hand, there was no blood, but dark purple bruises appeared. Seb turned and looked at Ethan, pain and horror spreading across his face.


    ¡°Aaah fuck!¡± he screamed. Ethan could see the little metal insect burrowing into Seb¡¯s hand, under his skin. ¡°Get it off!¡± Seb screamed. He staggered back and clawed at the palm of his hand, screaming in pain as the insect on his right hand ate into the flesh and bone under his skin. Ethan could see the shape of the little creature burrowing around, there were two, then three and four.  Seb screamed in pain and confusion, he tore at his hand with the fingernails of his left hand, drawing blood down his wrist, he tried to gouge the creatures out. There were too many of them, crawling underneath his skin. Ethan stared, he didn¡¯t know what to do, they seemed to be multiplying. Seb¡¯s hand was becoming black, covered with bruises, bulging with the little crawling monsters that were working their way up his fingers.


    Ethan backed away, staring in horror.


    ¡°Get it off!¡± Seb screamed again. ¡°Fucking cut it off!¡± Seb reached for the knife he had strapped to his belt, fumbled with it, held it up next to his deformed right hand that was swollen and pulsing with the insects inside. He clumsily stabbed at the palm of his hand a couple of times, dropped the knife and fell to his knees moaning in pain. ¡°Ethan, cut it off.¡±


    Ethan picked up the knife with shaking fingers, he was terrified at the sight of his friend¡¯s hand. Seb held his arm up, his hand black and blue and throbbing with insects, Ethan held the knife to his wrist and shakily drew a thin red line, too terrified to apply much pressure.


    ¡°Fucking cut it off!¡± Seb screamed again.


    Ethan grabbed his friend¡¯s arm by the elbow and applied as much pressure as he could, slashing the knife across Seb¡¯s wrist and trying to hack through. The knife was blunt and rusty, and Ethan couldn¡¯t get through the bones in his wrist. Blood spurted from the cut and Ethan realized Seb would bleed to death unless he could finish his gruesome job and somehow tie his arm up tight. He hacked and slashed at Seb¡¯s wrist, both of them screaming and splattered with blood. Finally, Ethan managed to cut through, breaking through the bone and severing the tendons. Seb staggered backwards on his knees and fainted, limp and unconscious as Ethan hastily ripped off his shirt and tied it around Seb¡¯s arm as tight as he could. The mangled hand fell to the ground, it was not bleeding but the fingers were twitching like they were possessed.


    Ethan stared at the hand in horror, there was soon no human flesh left. It was crawling with insects. They had changed colour from dark metal to blood red. The hand seemed to disintegrate leaving nothing but a small mound of crawling insects that were burrowing into the ground. One of the little insects started flying, hovering in the air, it had pink wings and a crimson body, then another and another until there was a little swarm of the things. They didn¡¯t move like regular insects, they just stayed in one place, hovering, and surveying the scene. One by one they descended on Seb¡¯s unconscious body and started crawling under his clothes and burrowing into his skin.


    Ethan stumbled further back, he wanted to help his friend, but he was terrified. He could not believe what he was seeing. Steam swirled around the hole, and the incessant chittering noise increased. Ethan watched in horror as the steam cleared and he realized the horrible buzzing noise came from the little metal insects rubbing their wings together. The entire edge of the hole was carpeted with crawling black insects, and they were expanding in every direction. Through the rising steam, Ethan could see them take flight, buzzing around in the plumes of steam, flying in steady circles as they rose into the air.


    They were expanding in every direction, and they soon covered Seb entirely, all Ethan could see was the shape of his body. The insects that covered him had a blood red colour. Ethan shook his head and moaned in disbelief. The horrible things had eaten his friend. The reddish colour was from Seb¡¯s body, his flesh and blood. He backed away and tripped over a stump. He looked up and wiped the grimy ash from his face, the circle was growing, the perimeter was carpeted with layers of crawling insects, some of the airborne ones flew closer towards him in looping circular movements. He got up and ran screaming into the trees, followed by the insane noise of millions of metal insects.

 Chapter 15.

    Ava, Lesedi and Carasco sat in the water playing with the baby alligators. It was hot and humid, but the water was cool. The Venetian pools were fed from underground artesian wells deep below Miami, which filtered clear, clean mineral water up through the rock. Heavy lumps of bleached limestone formed from ancient coral surrounded the pools. They were stained by centuries of sunlight, salt, and guano into a colourful pastel patina.


    Ava had made her home here in one of the stone towers. The ancient rocks had accumulated a historic energy which she loved. They were millions of years old and remained a constant and silent presence among everything that had gone on around them. They had been excavated and cut to construct the towers and decorate the pools. Giant slabs had been moved into place around the pools, where they retained their ancient warmth and heavy personality. They provided some stability and history that Ava needed in her life. In her spare time, she was building a network of aqueducts, channelling the running water into pools with little water wheels generating power. The solar panels and canal turbines provided all the power she needed but her aqueduct construction was a satisfying hobby. She wasn¡¯t sure why she liked to manipulate the running water. It reminded her of something she couldn¡¯t quite grasp, of happy times somewhere, sometime in her past.


    She stretched out in the shallow pool, luxuriating in the cool water. Her scar was an angry red stripe that curved across her belly. It always itched. Here in Miami, she was as content as she could ever be, but she struggled to hold on to moments of happiness. She could never properly relax. She found it hard to form relationships, she didn¡¯t know how. She couldn¡¯t sleep properly because of lurking nightmares and shards of unsubstantiated memories would plague her, popping into her head unannounced. That was something the IA inside her couldn¡¯t fix, the pain and trauma were buried too deep. She was comfortable with Lesedi though. They had talked, Lesedi had lots of questions, but they were also comfortable with each other¡¯s silence. Lesedi had an identical scar on her belly, visceral reminders of their mission.


    Above her the Sun was behind a thick layer of high cloud. She could look at it directly, a burning white sphere. She closed her eyes, but the Sun stayed with her. A flashback of blood and scalpels made her shudder. She shook her head trying to rid herself of the vision. Lago''s face faded as Ava gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. ¡°I guess it¡¯s time to go,¡± she said as she got out of the water and reached for some towels. The moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. Lesedi hadn''t noticed, she coaxed a protesting Carasco away from the baby alligators. They changed their clothes and prepared the hydrofoil.


    Ava had been home for two days after the elevator disaster. She was bitterly disappointed she hadn¡¯t got to use the E-bomb on Lago but hopefully she would get another chance. Many of the Miami inhabitants had gone to help with the clean-up, recovering the battered bodies washing up on beaches all over Indonesia and the Indian ocean. The waters had receded, but millions had died. Lesedi climbed in the hydrofoil with baby Carasco. He was crying, upset his mother had taken him from the shallow pools. The little yacht was streamlined, light and aerodynamic. It started slowly but did not take long to rise on its foils in the light breeze.


    ¡°Such a strange place,¡± said Lesedi. ¡°No people, just lots of alligators.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve been trying to train them. We keep them well fed, but don¡¯t get too close to the big ones. Sometimes old instincts prevail, and they can¡¯t resist having a go at you. The younger ones are better behaved. We¡¯ve been teaching them to help with the turbine construction, rewarding them with food, they¡¯re strong and they can follow instructions.¡±


    Ava piloted the craft through the waterways of Coral Gables, picking up speed down Miracle Mile with a warm westerly breeze behind her. She had to hold on to her red wig to stop it flying off. They flashed past derelict buildings crumbling into the lapping waves, then fought against the incoming tide as Ava swung left into the old Dixie Highway. In the distance, the once proud skyscrapers had been left to rot and rust, the facades crumbling, and windows long gone. Rusty metal girders curved into the sky like a dying man¡¯s hand. Defiantly resisting their inevitable doom. Layers of seabird guano hastened the decay.


    ¡°The skyscrapers are full of birds, bats, butterflies, and insects. Dogs, panthers, wild boars, and black bears wander around the suburbs like street gangs, and all kinds of marine critters cruise the streets. Miami has been totally rewilded,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°I hear the people can be pretty wild too.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re about to find out.¡±


    The new owners of Miami only restored the buildings they liked, and they loved the Venetian pools, the Ges¨´ church, and the Biltmore hotel. They had waterproofed and restored many beautiful old art-deco architectural masterpieces to their former glory. The rest of Miami had been left to nature. Soon Ava was tying up on the pontoon outside the Ges¨´ church and exchanging hugs with Noah and Mahdi.


    ¡°How¡¯s your head?¡± asked Ava.


    Mahdi had a wrap of fabric tied around his head. His black hair sprouted out from the top like a palm tree. ¡°All good,¡± he grinned. ¡°Smarter than ever.¡±


    Enoch and Lucinda were waiting inside the church. They stood around the wooden circular pontoon as Lesedi and Carasco moved to the middle. The church was radiant with light and warmth, insects darted through the shafts of heavenly sunlight beaming through the stained-glass windows. Ava breathed in the atmosphere; it was a special place.


    ¡°We don¡¯t do religion here,¡± said Enoch. ¡°We have no need for ceremony or ritual, the only words that need saying are, welcome to Ges¨´. This church has been a sanctuary through which many generations have passed. Soldiers from the Spanish American War worshipped here and veterans from the First World War prayed here many decades ago. When Miami was a training camp during World War Two, soldiers came to Ges¨´ to receive the sacraments and now Lesedi and Carasco are here to receive a different kind of sacrament.¡±


    The walls were infused with the pungent scent of incense and between the windows, Jesus was depicted suffering his twelve stages of agony in the stations of the cross. Ava looked at his porcelain head poking out of the water, still attached to the submerged crucifix. The crown of thorns looked painful, and he did not look like he approved of the proceedings.


    Enoch passed a small ceramic cup to Lesedi who took it and smiled nervously at Ava. They had talked about the Intelligent Agent, its history, and its benefits. Ava described the psychic space which they all shared, transferring energies and communicating with thought. And Ava had told Lesedi about her own past. Lesedi did not need much convincing. They had much in common, mutual pain and past trauma to cope with and Ava felt close to Lesedi since sharing their stories. She had gained a sister. Lesedi took a sip from the cup and looked around. ¡°Nothing¡¯s happening,¡± she said.


    Enoch laughed. ¡°You are not taking a recreational drug Lesedi. It will be a gradual process. You will wake up tomorrow morning feeling different.¡±


    Lesedi smiled and held the little cup to Carasco¡¯s mouth. Ava stood close by and watched the child drink the liquid. His eyes wide with suspicion.


    ¡°Welcome to you both,¡± said Lucinda. ¡°Come and sit, we have much to discuss.¡±


    They gathered around a low table in the antechamber, as carafes of water, plates of beans and crispy prawns were laid out in front of them. ¡°Enjoy,¡± said Enoch. ¡°I believe I have mastered the air fried seaweed prawn recipe.¡±


    ¡°Thanks Enoch,¡± Lucinda activated a 3D projection that appeared above them. ¡°These are tumultuous times. The Masama attack on the space elevator has been devastating. Many of our people have travelled to the Indian Ocean to help with the clean-up and recovery. Millions are dead, the world has been wounded, and now this.¡± The projection showed the sphere drifting towards the crippled BPI hub. ¡°This footage was captured yesterday from various satellites we hacked and enslaved.¡± Ava watched the futile attempts to destroy the sphere with hundreds of drones, then witnessed the sphere devouring the asteroid, growing exponentially as it consumed the rock.


    ¡°The Masama manufactured these mobile micro-factories, probably for construction. It seems they lost control of their machines after they sent them into the path of a coronal mass ejection from the Sun which somehow recalibrated them. We don¡¯t know if this was accidental or on purpose. The Masama left the sphere floating in Earth¡¯s gravity well. It was drawn to the asteroid, consumed it, substantially increasing its size then it was drastically reduced after burning up in Earth¡¯s atmosphere. But now look.¡± The view switched to a stationary satellite above Texas. It zoomed in to show a bird¡¯s eye view of the destruction caused by the sphere. The flames had been extinguished but instead of a crater there was a large black bubble growing from the centre of the crash site.


    ¡°This is from a few hours ago,¡± said Lucinda. The view showed the immediate aftermath of the collision, the helicopter dousing the flames and two people approaching the steamy crater. Ava watched one of them reaching out to the machines. She winced as she watched the metal bugs crawling all over him and devouring him. ¡°They are replicators. They need substrate to make copies. When floating in space they had nothing to feed on but themselves. You have seen how they consumed the BPI hub and that unfortunate man, they are using the rocks and dirt, the trees, and the people of Earth as the substrate.¡±


    Lucinda gestured at the holographic view and magnified even further. The black bubble was growing, a cloud of tiny metal insects were buzzing around, obscuring its surface. Ava could see the shape and the circumference of the bubble encroaching into the surrounding hills. Trees were toppled and consumed by the swarming replicators; a window showed the size of the sphere in cubic metres. The numbers increased faster and faster as the thing grew. ¡°It¡¯s growing into the Earth as well, already fifty metres deep into the crust, eating its way through the rock.¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°How does it actually break down and consume the rock?¡± asked Noah.


    ¡°From what we have seen, we can form a theory. Each individual is a tiny factory, we think it has a form of ferromagnetic energy that can latch onto and bind with any material that has trace elements when it comes into physical contact, even trees, animals, rocks, and dirt. Once it has latched on, it releases template-replicating polymers that break down the physical properties of its prey and rearranges them according to its template,¡± said Lucinda.


    ¡°We have to stop it, the more it eats the faster it grows. It will eat the entire Earth,¡± said Ava.


    The image shifted to show the 3D representation of the replicator mass below the Earth¡¯s surface. ¡°The replicator bubble seen from the air is only a small percentage of its total mass,¡± said Lucinda. ¡°It¡¯s eating through the Earth¡¯s crust, spreading out through the lithosphere and down towards the mantle. The rate of growth is astounding, imagine a single replicator making copies of itself. The first replicator assembles a copy in seconds, two replicators build two more, four build another four, eight build another eight. It doubles in size every few seconds. After a few hours, there are billions. In less than a day, they will weigh thousands of tonnes. In two days, they will outweigh the Earth; after another eight hours of consumption, they will exceed the mass of the Sun and all the planets combined, as long as there is enough substrate to feed on.¡±


    ¡°Where are the police and the army?¡± asked Ava. ¡°Surely the news channels have noticed this thing from space crashing into Texas and devouring the countryside, is anyone doing anything about it?¡±


    ¡°The Governments of the World are in disarray after the elevator disaster. They are looking for someone to blame. They have the same footage of the destruction of the asteroid hub, and the replicator sphere crashing into Carthage. They must have come to the same conclusion about the exponential growth of the replicators. But the world media are replaying scenes of the elevator devastation and the people on the ground are still counting bodies. The local Texas news carried a story about a meteorite and lots of amateur stargazers spotted it, but the entire world is distracted at the moment, their eyes are elsewhere. The Texan National Guard has been mobilized but I¡¯m not sure they will be able to do much.¡±


    ¡°Some news stations are running stories about the Masama attacking the entire planet. And that the elevator and the meteorite are the first wave of assaults,¡± said Mahdi. ¡°No one knows much about the Masama, so there is wild speculation and fear mongering stories going around about aliens, BPI conspiracies, and the end of the World. The replicator sphere is seen as a local Texan problem at this stage, the rest of the world is not paying much attention to it.¡±


    ¡°They will have to take notice soon when this thing eats Texas but what can they do?¡± asked Ava. ¡°What can we do? It must be destroyed; it will keep consuming and expanding until there is nothing left. It¡¯s eating everything.¡± There was silence inside the church. Ava considered all the tech they had at their disposal, wondering if anything would work against the replicators. ¡°We can¡¯t attack it; can we try to de-activate it? Switch off its programming somehow?¡±


    ¡°It seems these selective sequential replications occurred after dynamic interaction with their environment at the time, in this case a coronal mass ejection,¡± said Enoch. ¡°This demonstrates a fundamental link between thermodynamics, information theory, and life science in an unprecedented manner. What gives us the right to try to destroy it? If that¡¯s even possible? Is machine intelligence any less important than biological intelligence? It could be argued these self-reproducing constructs are the next evolutionary step. If we learnt anything from the pandemic, it¡¯s that humans are the biohazard. Machines are not.¡±


    ¡°This is about our survival,¡± said Ava. ¡°I know you like to play the devil¡¯s advocate Enoch but in the few minutes we¡¯ve been debating the rights of this monster, it has grown ten times bigger. Even if it is sentient, or alive, or whatever, it must be stopped or removed somehow before it eats our entire planet. And if we fail, then what? It roams around eating all the other planets in our system? We have to work out how to stop it or destroy it.¡± Ava could accept death as an evolutionary tool, everything, and everyone would die and be recycled eventually but she couldn¡¯t stand the idea of letting the Earth be eaten and processed into machines. They were trying to save and restore the planet and were just about to spread their IA enhancement around the world. They had come so close to making a big difference but now the entire planet was under threat. Ava knew Enoch was being annoyingly esoteric on purpose. It just made her more frustrated.


    ¡°It appears any self-replicating mechanism which does not make a perfect copy of itself, a mutation, will create variants of itself. These variants are subject to natural selection, some will be better at surviving in their current environment than others and will out-breed them. They are adapting to their environment; they are capable of Darwinian development. We may not necessarily have to destroy it; we could try to communicate with it,¡± said Enoch.


    ¡°How could you communicate with this thing? It eats everything it touches,¡± asked Noah.


    ¡°We have knowledge the rest of the population doesn¡¯t, knowledge is the most potent weapon,¡± said Enoch. ¡°But true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all very profound Enoch but it doesn¡¯t help us, and we are running out of time,¡± said Ava. ¡°We can¡¯t rely on anyone else; we have to act. In two days, there will be no more Miami, no more Earth.¡±


    ¡°I believe I have a solution,¡± said Enoch. ¡°There is a core of replicators deep inside the sphere. These constructs were the ones who travelled from the Moon and were altered by the coronal mass ejection. They are the machines who were attracted to the Earth¡¯s magnetic field and elemental mass, they survived the flight through Earth¡¯s atmosphere and have been adapting to their new environment ever since. I will make contact with this core and alter their instruction set.¡±


    ¡°Make contact? How do you contact that?¡± asked Noah.


    ¡°I have tried to communicate; if I reach out with my mind, I can sense the core. It''s an amazing feeling, billions and billions of little constructs, a boiling mass of industry, like putting your head in a beehive, but I cannot influence the core with conceptual pressure alone. I could read them with more clarity if I was closer, but it would not make any difference. I have to make physical contact.¡±


    ¡°But they will eat you Enoch. You can¡¯t make physical contact,¡± said Ava.


    ¡°Oh, I am tired of this old body anyway. There must be a physical connection. The IA inside me can connect with the replicator core and my mind will do the rest. I will be a human E-bomb.¡±


    ¡°If you make physical contact, you won¡¯t have a mind, they will destroy your mind. The E-bomb is designed to work on biologicals, not machines.¡± Ava realised this had been Enoch¡¯s solution all along. He planned to sacrifice himself. Ava knew his story. They had spent a lot of time together talking about the past, they both struggled to remember. Enoch was old. He had lost count of the years. He told Ava about all the things he had lost in life. Money, possessions, and people. And like Ava, he had lost his memory. Instead of being cut away, Enoch¡¯s memory had simply faded. Lost in the haze of passing time. But some knowledge was burned into his brain and had become instinct. The lessons he had learned from his interactions with people were that they couldn¡¯t be trusted, and they were hard to love. Those lessons were ingrained and had helped shape his paranoia. Back then his brain was failing. His failures made him confused and disillusioned. He tried to escape. Going off grid, in his own wilderness. He met some like-minded people, looking for peace, looking for something. Psychedelic drugs helped, they opened his mind, but he used so many he eventually became more confused. He didn¡¯t know what was real and what was not. His mind was in disarray. He wasn¡¯t sure if the images in his head were memories or some fiction. He couldn¡¯t trust himself. He was lost. He stumbled around America, not knowing what he was looking for. He found something in Miami with the Babelists.


    Enoch told Ava stories about the Babelists, a group of religious fanatics who shunned modern technology and believed in a return to pre-industrial times. They washed up in the abandoned city of Miami, human detritus floating in on the rising tides. The ruins of Miami attracted many vagrants, criminals and lost souls, there was no law, no authority and no technology left to offend this motley collection of deranged zealots. Progress had been drowned in the rising waters. Enoch wasn¡¯t convinced that God had much to do with their predicament, but he agreed with the Babelists that humanity had caused irreparable damage to the planet. Less people, less machines, and less buildings could only be a good thing. The Babelists sometimes organised themselves to attack construction projects and occasionally even do some damage. More out of dumb luck than good planning. Their strict adherence to pre-industrial technology meant their only weapons were things they could throw. Occasionally their crude methods were effective, blunt instruments could often literally go under the radar.


    As the years passed, Enoch descended into an Alzheimic stupor which he struggled to describe to Ava. His memories were a tangled mess. He lived day to day, only dealing with what was in front of him. She could relate to this state of mind, she lived the same way. His fellow Babelists were of no help to him, most of them suffered with various degrees of mental illness, but they survived, they found food and found shelter amongst the rotting edifices of the waterlogged city. Then everything changed when he met Lee Xiang. Enoch helped Lee and his companions, they were on the run, being pursued by Lago. The Babelists hurled rocks at the BPI gunships with catapults and destroyed them. In return Lee gave Enoch a seed of the IA inside him.


    Enoch described the moment of awakening with vivid luminescence. Everything changed almost instantly, like a heavy, choking blanket lifted from his mind. His brain woke up, thinking with speed and clarity for the first time in decades, he noticed the IA inside him, molecules of enlightenment flowing through his veins, healing wounds, mental and physical. The IA was an endless interactive vault of information which could be tapped into just by thinking about it. It became symbiotic, part of him, a benign intellect inside him. His transformation raised so many questions, and he found he had all the answers. The sum of all human knowledge at his fingertips. It changed him for the better, gave him empathy, insight, and knowledge. He found he could share this knowledge with Miami¡¯s citizens. He travelled around the drowned city, passing on a mote of the IA inside him to everyone he met and eventually creating this utopia they all enjoyed. Ava knew him well enough to know he couldn¡¯t be dissuaded once his mind was made up. But he had become a sort of a father figure and she couldn¡¯t imagine Miami without him.


    ¡°The principles remain the same,¡± said Enoch. ¡°The replicators are tiny factories functioning on electro-magnetic signals, and my brain is only a collection of neurotransmitters and electro-chemical signals. My IA, once released into the core will carry the essence of my mind. My soul if you will, I will live on inside the machine, I will teach it empathy.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure of that?¡±


    ¡°As sure as I am of anything.¡±


    ¡°Why does it have to be you, Enoch? You are our leader, our inspiration. There are hundreds of like-minded people here in Miami. I am sure many of them would volunteer for what you are suggesting,¡± said Ava. ¡°Hell, I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    ¡°You know as well as I do there are no leaders here. We are all leaders, we are all followers, we are all equal. I was the first to receive the IA. I have had it the longest and I know its possibilities better than anyone. I can sense the replicator core. Hot and bright like the Sun. I can feel its singular industry, I know what to do. The replicator sphere is a virus, and I am the vaccine. I am most qualified; I am the oldest and I am ready.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t sacrifice yourself Enoch, you can¡¯t leave us.¡±


    ¡°I am not asking permission Ava.¡±


    Ava looked around the group in silence, wishing someone would take up her argument. But arguing was pointless. She couldn¡¯t imagine life without Enoch, but this was the best solution, maybe the only solution. The food sat untouched in front of them. Noah distractedly ate some beans.


    ¡°Eat the prawns or I will be offended,¡± said Enoch.

 Chapter 16.

    Lago had been through all the stages of anger. Eruptions of pure white fury detonating behind his eyes. Cold hard rage crystallized by the amphetamine coursing through his veins. Infuriation anyone or anything would ever contemplate defying him. Apoplectic delirium on realizing he was not in control after all. Finally, a sullen acceptance of the fact he had nothing left. No empire, no legacy. It had all been taken from him. He scratched his facial scar and pulled at the remains of his ear as he gazed at his home planet. He summoned Klara to his side who knew what he wanted. He cracked another vial, paying no attention to those around him. The amphetamine helped him focus his chaotic brain. His reflection in the window showed a scowling man with wide, unblinking eyes. The weight of the world on his shoulders.


    Klara interrupted his dark thoughts. ¡°This is the new batch of nanites.¡± She held up a small bottle. ¡°I brought them with us from the asteroid. They are the next gen, capable of learning and evolving. As well as eliminating harmful cells they can engineer complex tissues inside you that will grow and mature with you Lago, prolonging your life and protecting you. They will survive for years. These are the last nanites you will ever need.¡±


    Lago took the bottle and studied it. It looked like the same cloudy liquid as before. He uncapped the bottle and drank the whole thing. He could feel the millions of tiny machines spread throughout his body, energising, and empowering him, restoring his confidence. He hadn¡¯t really been listening to Klara. ¡°Do you have more?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need any more. You have enough in your body. You can¡¯t take any more or your system will be saturated. The nanites are almost sentient. I have developed them to adapt to your specific genetic makeup. They will grow and evolve with you.¡± Lago studied Klara for a second. She probably knew him better than anyone. She had been his physician for years, but he did not know her at all. Her potions empowered him. Made him feel in control again. He didn¡¯t really care what was in them as long as they worked. They helped him stay focused. He could see the bigger picture without getting distracted by the details. He would win. Of course, he would win. He always won.


    Viewed from the bridge of the orbiting shuttle, Earth looked serene, healthy, and peaceful. A green and blue marble glowing with vibrant energy and life. There was no hint of the death, destruction and chaos that must be taking place beneath the cloud cover. The deaths didn¡¯t concern him, and neither did the reports blaming BPI for the elevator disaster. There was little news of the Masama or the replicator sphere that had eaten his asteroid hub then crashed somewhere in Texas. Where, unsurprisingly, it now appeared to be expanding.


    ¡°That''s it then,¡± he said to Dato. ¡°The Earth is fucked, no going back.¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily. The focus has been on the clean-up in the Indian ocean, but the Texan National Guard has been mobilized to investigate the sphere,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°What can they do? Shoot at it? The thing eats everything it comes into contact with. Their guns will only feed it.¡±


    ¡°They should work out what it is and hopefully take appropriate measures, most likely a nuclear option.¡±


    ¡°It will eat their nukes, everything they throw at it will just make it grow larger and stronger. You saw how it destroyed my hub. Two or three days and the Earth will be gone.¡±


    Lago and Dato stood behind the pilot looking at the Earth and out into the empty space beyond. Lago brooded, assessing his options, and evaluating his people. Technicians tapped data pads in the background, trying to look busy, security guards sat in plush recliners trying to look unconcerned. There were five shuttles in total. Two Tobias class, two K-star shuttles, and the recently arrived Tobias troop carrier from Earth. The K-star shuttle he had claimed for himself, the Damned Saint, was sleek and luxurious. Everything was covered in red velvet, floor to ceiling decadence with soft lighting accentuating the sensuous curves. It was open plan, no cabins, no privacy for Lago. He was not used to being around so many people, it made him anxious.


    Lago raised his voice to Dato, aware he had an audience and determined to prove his point to everyone listening. ¡°I don¡¯t want to abandon Earth, that¡¯s my planet down there, everything I built, my empire, my legacy, all my achievements eaten up in a few days by some mindless replicating machines. I¡¯d opened up access to space, to send my people to the stars, I was engineering the next evolutionary step for mankind. I was the benevolent king of Earth, now everything is gone. I have nothing left but this pathetic collection of shuttles.¡±


    ¡°We could go and help,¡± offered Dato. ¡°We have been producing drones and weapons with the printers and we have the means to make more. We could go back to Earth and join the fight.¡±


    ¡°We have to go back. We will all die up here,¡± offered the bald scientist.


    ¡°We will all die down there too. Like I said, the Earth is fucked. The plan has not changed. The Masama did this. They destroyed my elevator; they released those evil little machines that destroyed my hub. These are acts of war. They have declared war on humanity, they are trying to destroy mankind. My people! They betrayed me, stole my shuttle and my moon-base, they have taken everything from me. They are mutants, they are not human anymore. We are going to attack them and destroy them. Then we can take over the moon-base. At least we¡¯ll have somewhere to live. It¡¯s the only option.¡±


    ¡°Lago, I don¡¯t think that would be wise, it was a bad idea before and it¡¯s an even worse idea now we are so reduced,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°Fuck your wisdom,¡± Lago glared at Dato. ¡°We have nothing to lose, we literally have nothing. We can¡¯t go back to Earth so what else are we going to do? Float around here and watch the Earth being eaten? Go and try to populate Mars? Head for Alpha Centauri?¡±


    ¡°Mars might not be such a bad idea,¡± said Dato but Lago wasn''t listening. His mind was swirling with amphetamine fuelled concepts of revenge and responsibility. He had never felt responsible for anyone before. It was a new emotion, having to consider the wellbeing of his crew. They were the future of humanity now. He scowled and shook his head.


    ¡°We are going to fight. We have to fight. Fight for our planet, our people, our way of life. Our species is under threat from those traitorous mutants, and we are the last hope for humanity.¡±


    ¡°I thought you said the Earth was fucked,¡± muttered Dato.


    ¡°The Earth is fucked. We are all that¡¯s left, the last hope for humanity. If there is any hope of continuing our species we must fight, and we must win.¡±


    ¡°If we are the last hope of continuing our species, maybe we shouldn¡¯t go and attack the Masama right away.¡±


    ¡°Are you listening to me? We will not be victims. We will not begin this new era of humanity with an act of cowardice. We will destroy the Masama and take back the Moon. We will establish a new home, we will adapt, we will procreate, we will survive.¡± Lago noticed a female technician staring at him with alarm as he said these words. He raised his voice even more. ¡°It¡¯s our responsibility,¡± he continued. ¡°The future of humanity is in our hands.¡±


    Lago turned to address his crew who were staring at him with obvious distress. ¡°Listen, all of you!¡± he shouted. ¡°The plan has not changed. We are going to fight, we are going to win, we have no choice. We can¡¯t go back to Earth. Our hub has gone, we have no home. We can¡¯t just float around in space until we kill each other from boredom. There is no other option but to attack the Moon.¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Dato interrupted; ¡°The shuttles have printers that could¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up Dato.¡± Lago had never felt the need to justify himself. He had always been confident every decision he made was the right one, he had never felt the need to question himself and he rarely listened to any advice. He had crushed any fleeting semblance of conscience decades ago with a megalomaniacal belief in his own abilities. He was certain this was the right decision. His entire body burned with a lust for revenge. He would destroy the Masama and establish a new home on the Moon. He would sculpt the colony into a utopian paradise, under his rules, with none of the chaotic distractions of the previous civilisation.


    He glared at Dato then turned his abrasive gaze back to the group of technicians and soldiers. ¡°Let me repeat; you don¡¯t have a choice. You will either fight or die. You might die anyway so use that as motivation. You have nothing to lose. We are fighting for our lives and our future, and we will win this war. We have weapons. We have a shuttle full of battle-hardened soldiers. We will print bigger railguns, more missiles, more drones. We will disable them with our effectors and pound them to dust from orbit.¡±


    There was a long silence before Dato spoke. ¡°If by some miracle we win this war, what of the replicators? They must have some form of magnetic attraction to mass objects. If they consume the Earth, they will surely come after the Moon next.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves, one battle at a time. We will deal with the replicators when we have to.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me Mr Santos, we are picking up signals of vessels leaving Earth¡¯s atmosphere,¡± said a technician.


    ¡°Show me.¡±


    ¡°Their drive signatures are similar to our K-star shuttles, there are five vessels. I have plotted their trajectories back to their ports of origin. Two departed from the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan, two from China''s Jiuquan Launch Center and one from Boca Chica, Texas.¡±


    Lago regarded her for an awkward few seconds. Unlike the rest of his technicians, she was not bald or male. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Corazon. Their trajectory suggests a geostationary orbit. They have nowhere to go apart from the Prime Mover shuttle from Boca Chica which appears to be heading for Mars.¡±


    Lago watched the screen. ¡°Can we raise them on the comms?¡±


    Corazon opened a channel and connected with the shuttle. After some negotiation, she handed Lago a headset. ¡°Oscar,¡± he said. ¡°Are you abandoning your home planet for Mars already?¡± He knew the owner of the Prime Mover shuttle, a wealthy philanthropist who had sold him the thermo-electric generator for the umbilical climber. He was always the smartest person in the room. Lago despised him.


    ¡°There have been five mass-extinction events in the fossil record Lago. I have been waiting and preparing for the sixth.¡± Came the reply.


    Lago quickly checked with Corazon whether it was possible to intercept the Prime Mover with his fleet, but the shuttle was already too far away.


    ¡°You¡¯re a coward, Oscar; I will come and find you on Mars one day.¡±


    ¡°Looking forward to it Lago.¡±


    He turned back to Dato. ¡°Start plotting an intercept course to the other orbiting shuttles.¡±


    ¡°You know who they are?¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course. They belong to billionaires and oligarchs that have prepped for a doomsday scenario like this. The Earth is doomed, and the fat rats are leaving the sinking ship, although they have nowhere to run.¡±


    It took hours for the fleet to intercept the first two shuttles in orbit. It was an uncomfortable wait. Lago shuffled about nervously, wishing he had some privacy, craving more shabu, despite knowing he already had plenty in his system. He wasn¡¯t antisocial, he told himself. He just didn¡¯t see the point. He didn¡¯t need friends, he just needed people to do what he told them. People were a resource, to be used as he saw fit. Anyway, most people had no idea what they wanted or needed. They didn¡¯t know their own limitations or what they were capable of. He had used people to build his empire but now he had to lead them because the Masama had ruined it all. Those traitorous Masama, his biggest failure. Every time he thought of them, he seethed, and they were never far from his thoughts.


    The two Chinese shuttles were gold plated with red stripes, radiating wealth and opulence in the stark sunlight. They were bigger and more aerodynamic than the K-star shuttles, designed with aesthetics in mind rather than operational efficiency. They made the Tobias class shuttles look like floating tin cans.


    ¡°Pretentious bastards,¡± muttered Lago but he was secretly quite impressed with the Chinese shuttles. He recognised them, both shuttles were emblazoned with the name ¡®Dong Feng¡¯ in bright red.


    ¡°Who are they?¡± asked Dato.


    ¡°Son Tiangong,¡± said Lago. ¡°His family enslaved an entire race to build their manufacturing empire. They turned their country into the planet¡¯s sweatshop. He used to be my competition, but he couldn¡¯t keep up with my printer tech.¡±


    ¡°You think he can help us?¡±


    ¡°He doesn¡¯t have a choice. Open a channel,¡± he instructed Corazon. ¡°Son Tiangong, can you hear me? This is Lago Santos.¡±


    There was a long moment of crackling static. ¡°Lago my old friend, sorry about your elevator. Caused quite a splash.¡±


    ¡°What brings you to BPI space? Finally burn too many bridges back home?¡±


    ¡°Oh, just a flight of fancy with my friends. It was getting a little bit chaotic back home so we thought we would spend some time in orbit until things calm down. Is this BPI space Lago? Have you become so self-important you think you can own space?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯ll find I own this piece of space, how about I come over and visit? Your shuttles look impressive.¡±


    ¡°Aha, flattery normally always works but alas this is a private party Lago, and you know how complicated those airlock things can be.¡±


    ¡°I must insist, I¡¯m sure I can find a way in.¡±


    ¡°Lago, I too must insist you keep your distance. Please tell your shabby collection of shuttles to back off. My vessels are registered official spaceships of the Chinese National space program. You wouldn¡¯t want to cause a diplomatic incident.¡±


    ¡°There are no laws here, Son. You are surrounded and there is nowhere to run. Enough of the niceties. I know your shuttles are just luxury lifeboats, they have no attack or defence systems. I will blow you out of the sky if I detect your engines heating up. Prepare for boarding.¡±


    While they had been talking, Lago¡¯s fleet of shuttles had been closing in on the two Dong Feng vessels. The K-star shuttles did not have any mid-air docking equipment, but the Tobias shuttles, and the troop carrier had vacuum air bridges that could attach to a vessel in space. Lago instructed his troop carrier to connect. He watched with satisfaction as they closed in on the Dong Feng shuttles like ragged street kids mugging a rich couple in a dark alley.


    The troop carrier extended a robotic arm to connect with, and hold onto the first Chinese shuttle, the air bridge bonded with his shuttle, but Son refused to open the airlock door. ¡°Lago! What are you doing? You fucking pirates, leave us alone!¡±


    ¡°Open the door or we will cut our way in and throw you out the airlock.¡±


    There was silence for a few minutes as Lago imagined the turmoil inside the shuttle. Son had no options, he either let the soldiers in or they would force their way in. He wished he could be there; he would have loved to see the expression on Son''s face as his soldiers commandeered the shuttle.


    ¡°I will let you in, but I have already communicated with Space City. The Chinese Government condemns your actions, this is an act of war and there will be repercussions.¡±


    ¡°Your government has enough to worry about down there, they will probably be glad to be rid of you. Just sit tight, be quiet and don''t cause any trouble or we will throw you out the airlock. We need to make a few modifications to your shuttles; they belong to me now.¡±


    Lago could hear the protestations and cries of alarm as his soldiers entered the shuttle and took over. They carried equipment through the airlock, tools, 3D printers and banks of substrate to transform the luxury shuttle into a war machine. Lago was tempted to throw Son and his entourage out the airlock, they were certainly expendable, but the mechanics of the airlock made it difficult. He instructed his soldiers to keep them quiet with brute force if necessary. When they had finished with the first Dong Feng shuttle the troop carrier moved to the next one and repeated the procedure.


    The Russian shuttles and their crew proved more resilient, even after one of the Tobias shuttles unloaded a round of railgun slugs across their bows, they refused to slow down and comply. Lago knew the owner of the shuttles, A Russian gangster that had extorted his way into positions of extreme power and wealth.


    ¡°Vitali,¡± he barked into the comms. ¡°I will shoot you out of the sky. Slow down, we need to talk.¡±


    After a long silence came the reply: ¡°Lago Santos, you little troublemaker. You fucked my planet with your stupid elevator. Why are you threatening me?¡±


    ¡°The planet was already fucked Vitali; you are responsible for half of the pollution down there. I need your shuttles and your expertise. You don''t have a choice, refuse and I will destroy you.¡±


    Vitali tested Lago¡¯s patience with many questions. He went from antagonistic, to aggrieved silence, then negotiating, then finally agreeing to help. Lago¡¯s hand hovered over the railgun command, but Vitaly eventually conceded. They agreed to share the Moon¡¯s resources once the war was won. It was always dangerous entering into partnerships with Russian gangsters, but Lago was more confident tackling the Masama with allies that were driven by profit and had no sense of restraint. Give these Russians a motive and they would fight to the death. The BPI soldiers commandeered the shuttles and started readying them for war as Lago¡¯s reinforced fleet slowly began heading towards the Moon.

 Chapter 17.

    After Ethan had watched Seb being eaten by the alien bugs, he ran to his rusty old truck and drove back to Carthage at breakneck speed. He screeched to a halt outside the police station, left his truck in the police only parking, and sprinted up the stairs. Officer Nathan Pickle was on duty. They had gone to school together but had never been friends. Ethan had picked on him back then and had a bunch of names for him. No Mates Nathan, and Pickle Pants were his favorites. But once they left school, No Mates got his revenge, busting Ethan several times for possession. Nathan rolled his eyes as a sweaty, breathless Ethan burst in. He picked up his trucker magazine as Ethan blurted out his wild story.


    ¡°God dammit Ethan, what the hell have you been smoking? Or have you been eating those mushrooms again? I told you those things will make you crazy. I should just throw your ass in jail right now for wasting my valuable time,¡± said Nathan as he flicked through his magazine. ¡°But I can¡¯t be assed with the paperwork.¡±


    ¡°Listen to me Pickle, Seb is dead, do you hear me? He¡¯s dead!¡± stammered Ethan. ¡°Look, this is his blood!¡± He pointed to his stained t-shirt.


    The phone rang and Pickle glared at Ethan for several seconds before picking it up. As soon as he answered, Pickle sat up straight with a look of alarm on his face. He repeated; ¡°yes sir,¡± several times into the phone before hanging up and staring at Ethan. ¡°That was the Governor¡¯s office from Austin, they¡¯ve seen something on the satellite. They¡¯re sending some military people to investigate your aliens. They wanted to know if we had any reports of unusual activity and any witnesses. I think you had better stick around.¡±


    Minutes later, outside the station, Ethan was wilting under the attention. Word spread quickly in Carthage, and he found himself being interviewed by the local newspaper reporter while surrounded by locals with nothing better to do than ask stupid questions. He could barely string a sentence together and most of the townsfolk were laughing at him. He mumbled incoherently about meteors and bugs from outer space eating his friend, much to the amusement of the gathered crowd. He wished he hadn¡¯t smoked that joint earlier. The crowd eventually lost interest when two helicopters swooped in and landed in the square across the road. Minutes later a military convoy rumbled up the street. A procession of Humvee¡¯s, armored carriers and weapon platforms bristling with guns followed by about twenty excited local kids on bikes. A tall, craggy faced military man jumped out of one of the choppers and marched towards the station. He towered over Pickle who pointed a shaky finger towards Ethan. The man took a toothpick from his mouth as he studied Ethan, before striding over and crushing his limp hand in a sturdy handshake.


    ¡°Major General Mason Mount from the Texas Army National Guard at your service, and you are?¡±


    ¡°Ethan Kasprowicz sir,¡± Ethan stammered.


    ¡°Pleased to meet you Ethan, come and show us what you¡¯ve found.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back there sir. Those alien bugs ate my friend sir.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry son, you have the might of the National Guard to protect you. Now hurry the fuck up.¡± General Mount turned quickly on his heel, pushed through the gathered locals, and strode towards an open top Humvee with Ethan in tow.


    Ethan sat in the back as the powerful Humvee sped off towards Jack¡¯s farm. He fumbled out his story to the General who sat next to him nodding thoughtfully. Ethan was a little more confident with the Texas military behind him and the pot paranoia was finally wearing off. He had applied for the military once but had failed the drugs test. At the time he had been surprised and disappointed. He had expected the American military would accept anyone. It was only weed after all; not like he was on the crack or anything. He was about to ask General Mount about this when the general leaned around, raised his aviators, and looked him in the eye as if reading his mind. ¡°Been smoking pot son?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± said Ethan instinctively. Then squirmed in his seat as the general raised a skeptical eyebrow.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that alien bugs from outer space ate your friend, and you expect me to believe you aren¡¯t on drugs?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir, that¡¯s what happened sir.¡±


    ¡°Well let¡¯s go and check it out. The satellite images show something weird, and Lord knows there¡¯s enough crazy shit going on in the world at the moment already. It wouldn¡¯t surprise me if some god-damned aliens crash landed in your town and ate your friend.¡±


    The convoy of military vehicles swarmed over Jack¡¯s land, and Ethan directed the Humvee to the edge of the woodland where the meteorite had crashed. A few curious onlookers had gathered, mostly neighboring farmers who looked quizzically at Ethan as he waved at them. They seemed more interested in the high-tech military convoy than the strange growth that had become visible beyond the trees. The soldiers quickly established a perimeter, ushering the observers away. The herd of bemused looking Longhorns observed the proceedings from a small grassy hill nearby.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± The General¡¯s mouth fell open.


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing that ate my friend sir,¡± said Ethan.


    General Mount stood up in the Humvee and focused his binoculars. Ethan stood up too as the rest of the convoy parked strategically around the grassland. There were personnel carriers, armored vehicles, mobile gun platforms and drone carriers. Ethan shaded his eyes and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. The alien bugs had grown outwards and upwards, into a black dome that was higher than the few remaining trees. Its surface shimmered in the bright Texan sunlight, alive with movement and noise. As he watched, a couple of trees were toppled, and he could see swarms of the black insects crawling over them and eating their trunks. There was a metallic white noise like tinnitus ringing in his ears.


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± muttered the General. ¡°Are they some kind of insect machines? Robot wasps? Those god-damned Chinese, what will they come up with next? Send in the surveillance drones. Private, go get me one of those little machines so we can take a closer look.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me sir, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea sir,¡± said Ethan. ¡°That¡¯s how my friend got eaten sir.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry son, we know what we are doing.¡±


    Ethan nervously watched a soldier dressed in a protective bomb disposal suit clumsily make his way towards the encroaching mass of insects. He was equipped with a telescopic grabbing tool and a heavy looking metal box. He approached the buzzing mass with caution, creeping carefully over the rocks and grass. He reached out with the grabber, picked one up and deposited it inside the box. As the soldier walked back the box began to disintegrate and a slow-moving swarm of insects appeared. They latched onto the soldier¡¯s hand before he could drop the box, then the box disappeared completely and there was a buzzing swarm of insects crawling up the soldier¡¯s arm. They flew around his head and landed all over the suit, eating their way through. Ethan had seen this before. ¡°I told you guys; this is what happened to Seb!¡± He could hear muffled screams from the stricken soldier as more and more insects appeared.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°God-dammit, go help him,¡± said the General.


    Several soldiers ran over to assist the soldier who was writhing in the grass. They unclipped his helmet and his screams echoed around the countryside. ¡°Cut it off!¡± he yelled.


    His arm had been devoured by the insects who were almost at his neck. One of the soldiers drew a large knife and attempted to cut the man¡¯s arm off at his shoulder but it was too late, the insects latched onto the knife and started eating the blade. The soldier dropped the disintegrating knife and stood back. They looked on in horror as their comrade was overwhelmed, his screams cut off as a cluster of insects clamped onto his windpipe, then his head vanished underneath the clicking black machines.


    ¡°They keep reproducing. Get the RPGs,¡± demanded General Mount.


    As they readied the rocket propelled grenades, the insects swarmed all over the soldier, only his twitching legs showed under the buzzing mound, their tiny wings glittered in the sunlight, turning a crimson colour. The soldiers were forced backwards by the encroaching black dome. Ethan watched in horror as the last few trees succumbed and the mass of metal insects absorbed what was left of the soldier. The RPGs launched their grenades. They all braced themselves for the explosions but there were none. The grenades simply disappeared into the insect dome with a dull thud, as the machines absorbed the detonations and continued to grow.


    ¡°Fuck, we need something bigger. Heavy calibre cannons, kinetic energy penetrators and flame throwers,¡± ordered General Mount as he waved the mobile gun platforms forward. Ten of the platforms advanced and opened fire. Ethan put his hands over his ears as the cannons fired multiple rounds, and the cacophonic noise rattled his teeth and shook the ground. He was excited and terrified at the same time. He wanted to close his eyes but had to watch as the cannon shells smashed into the dome. Some just disappeared and some shells ricocheted off the surface, pinging into the sky.


    The kinetic energy penetrators pierced the outer shell of the dome, and their loads of plastic explosive detonated. The explosions caused the dome to bulge momentarily. But then it seemed to swallow the explosion as easily as a python eating a rabbit. The flamethrowers doused the surface of the dome with blazing petrochemical which seemed to scorch the airborne machines and slow the advance of the dome. The barrage went on for a couple of minutes before the General put his hand up to signal a halt. The noise dissipated and was replaced by the incessant crackle of the replicators.


    General Mount shook his head. ¡°Keep using the flamethrowers, bring up the thermo¡¯s and bunker busters,¡± he shouted.


    Two more weapon platforms mounted with bigger guns rolled up. The soldiers moved further back and took cover. General Mount instructed Ethan to sit down and put his head between his legs, but Ethan had to watch. He had read about thermobaric hellfire missiles, a shaped charge that uses the surrounding oxygen to cause a pressurized high temperature explosion, and the bunker busters that could crack through solid armour. Heavy duty weapons. The shockwave from the hellfire missile was tremendous, Ethan¡¯s neck snapped backwards, he held on as the heavy Humvee rocked and rolled a couple of metres. He was glad he kept his head up though as he was the first to see smoking pieces of metal shrapnel flying through the vapour cloud.


    ¡°Look out!¡± he yelled as flaming metal insects rained down on them, clattering off the gathered vehicles. One thumped into the seat next to Ethan, he stared in horror at the little piece of scorched metal next to him burning through the seat. It was a twisted cluster of molten insects; their exteriors had been fused together. Ethan looked down the smoking hole in the seat, his heart was pounding. The insects looked non-threatening and inert. He hoped they were dead; his mouth was too dry to speak. Then tiny silver wings appeared on top of the melted metal and started twitching. ¡°Fuck!¡± he shouted. The General turned to watch as a mass of crawling insects appeared out of the molten metal. They started buzzing around in lazy circles, covering the hole in the seat, and devouring the inside. General Mount drew his pistol and aimed shakily at the multiplying machines.


    ¡°You can¡¯t shoot them,¡± yelled Ethan. ¡°Get the fuck out of here!¡±


    They hastily exited the vehicle and retreated. There were clusters of insects growing from the impact points dotted around the grassy valley, small swarms swirled in the air above blackened holes in the grass. The ones that had landed on the vehicles were busy breaking them down and transforming them into more insects. The soldiers retreated. The vehicles that weren¡¯t being eaten reversed back to a safe distance. The General stood close to a hole in the ground where a smoking cluster had been buried. Ethan stood next to him. He grabbed the General¡¯s arm and tried to drag him away, but the General shrugged him off, raised his aviators and bent down to take a closer look. It was only a few seconds before the patch of grass erupted around the hole and a swarm of insects burst through. General Mount stepped back and drew his pistol. He emptied a round into the cluster which only seemed to increase the methodical rattle of insect activity.


    ¡°I told you!¡± yelled Ethan. His confidence in the General and his men had evaporated. They were as helpless as he was.


    General Mount pushed him aside and strode up the small grassy verge where his men and remaining vehicles had gathered next to the Longhorns. Ethan picked himself up off the ground and ran past the General, past the soldiers and cowered amongst the cattle. He held on to one of the Longhorns, feeling safer there than he had with the might of the Texan National Guard. The normally placid cattle shifted about nervously, sensing something was amiss. Then the Longhorn herd suddenly turned and started stampeding towards the road, grunting distressed bellows as they went, leaving Ethan standing there unprotected. The giant metal dome glistened in the sunlight, pulsing, and buzzing with a sound like the loudest case of tinnitus. Ethan stared in horror; it had grown much bigger.


    He grabbed the General¡¯s arm. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± He screamed above the cacophony. There was no reaction from General Mount. Ethan shook his head and backed away a few steps. The black dome towered in front of him, but it was not growing any higher. Instead, the circumference was expanding quickly, as it merged with the clusters growing from the grass and abandoned vehicles. The wall of machines ate up metres of earth, accelerating all the time and Ethan could hear a deep rumbling sound below the chittering tinnitus buzz. The ground seemed to vibrate, shaking slightly like a continuous earthquake. Ethan turned and ran towards a still functioning Humvee. ¡°Get the fuck out of here!¡± he screamed.


    The shaking increased as Ethan hurled himself into the back of the Humvee closely followed by the General. The reduced military convoy tore across what was left of Jack¡¯s property, past the Longhorns and out onto the metal road. Looking back, Ethan could see the ground erupting behind him. The dome was rising up through the rolling green hills in a cloud of dust. Rocks, dirt, cattle, and trees disintegrated and disappeared as it burst through the Earth. The surface of the dome was a smooth, sculptured, black mountain of moving parts. Ethan could not believe what he was seeing. The Humvee was doing over one hundred kilometres an hour, but the roiling black crest of the dome was keeping pace with them, ripping up the countryside at an alarming rate. It towered above them and churned through the horizon on either side.


    ¡°Faster!¡± screamed Ethan.


    General Mason Mount sat stoically, refusing to look back. He had to shout into his phone to be heard. ¡°Ballistic missiles. Nuclear warheads,¡± he yelled. ¡°It¡¯s too late to evacuate, too late to worry about collateral damage, we need this fucking thing nuked now!¡± Ethan looked at the General in horror as he yelled into his phone. ¡°I know we are in the blast radius, you either nuke Texas now or there won¡¯t be any god-damned United States left.¡±

 Chapter 18.

    Dato was not scared of death. He had faced it many times, mostly other people¡¯s impending fatalities but occasionally his own life had been threatened. He liked his job and all the benefits that being Lago¡¯s second in command could offer. He understood Lago was an insane psychopath, but Dato could usually keep him suitably distracted and distant from any important decision making. Up until recently. Lago was intoxicated with power; at best he was an egomaniac in charge of an Earth spanning empire. That wasn¡¯t so bad, Earth had a long history of maniacs in charge and had survived so far. At worst Lago was a self-proclaimed deity who truly believed he was immortal. Dato wondered how it could be possible that someone so out of touch with reality had become the most powerful person in the world. It had been entertaining, but before these latest events had unfolded, Dato had become desensitized to the power struggles he used to love. He had become bored and strangely unsatisfied by the privilege and power. He didn¡¯t really give a shit anymore about anything including his own mortality.


    Dato had reached a level of ambivalence where he went along for the ride, to see where Lago¡¯s insanity would take them. He did not have a high opinion of humanity, as far as he was concerned the vast majority of humans were not worth fighting for. Lago was right, the Earth was fucked. The idiots had been shitting in their own backyard for centuries, but the impending apocalypse was taking too long. Dato would have preferred a dramatic omnicidal megadeath event to the slow, boring inevitability of climate change. If the Masama attack on the elevator and the sphere of ravenous replicators was the beginning of the end times then things might have finally become more interesting.


    He looked over at Lago, still nervously pacing and scratching the scar under his beard. Being his adjutant meant Dato had a share of Lago¡¯s power and influence. That had been fun, but things were changing fast and Lago¡¯s obsessive thirst for revenge would most likely get them all killed. Dato didn¡¯t want to die before seeing where this crazy ride would take them. He had once been Masama, so he knew them better than anyone. Attacking them would almost certainly end in failure and death, and negotiating with them was probably also hopeless but worth a try. Living on the Moon would be arduous but probably preferable to dying in a pointless war. He decided to try once more to talk some sense into the drug-crazed fool, maybe he could prolong the ride a little bit longer.


    ¡°Lago,¡± he said quietly. ¡°War should be our last resort. We should try to negotiate and come to some sort of arrangement with the Masama, a truce. Maybe we could co-exist on the Moon with them, maybe they would prefer to avoid a war. They might be willing to consider a peaceful solution.¡±


    Lago¡¯s dilated eyes burned with outrage. ¡°Peaceful solution? Are you insane? Those mutants attacked me, destroyed my elevator, my home, and right now their insect machines are busy destroying my planet Dato, our planet. They declared war on us! You think they would make peace? They would slaughter us all as soon as they had the chance. I should throw you out the airlock for even suggesting such a thing.¡± Lago was up close in Dato¡¯s face spraying him with spittle.


    Dato did not flinch. He was the voice of reason; the conscience Lago did not seem to possess. ¡°You should stop taking so much shabu, it¡¯s making you more irrational than usual.¡±


    Lago looked incandescent, he was boiling over and was about to explode. Dato stood firm and faced Lago¡¯s rage with dead-eyed calmness. ¡°Keep your fucking thoughts to yourself,¡± shouted Lago and he resumed his pacing in the volatile silence that followed.


    Even as he suggested it, Dato knew there was little chance of co-existing on the Moon with the Masama. He knew them well enough to realise they would never tolerate any kind of peaceful coexistence with Lago. And he knew Lago well enough to understand he was incapable of that too. But he couldn¡¯t see any other way to avoid a massacre. It seemed war was inevitable, a war they had little chance of winning. Dato had prepared as well as he could. They had weapons, drones, shuttles, and people after all. But the Masama would also have been preparing and they were on their home ground. And they had been fighting their entire lives.


    Lago stood at the bridge staring into space, his unblinking eyes even more demented and red-rimmed than before. Looking at him, Dato was certain he had not slept for days. He had seen Lago taking more of the nanite solution, against Klara¡¯s advice. And the shabu was a powerful stimulant. Dato wondered what excessive use of both combined would do to a human body. Millions of speed crazed nanites surging through his blood. And apparently the nanites were now almost sentient. Lago was becoming more obsessive and unhinged; his megalomaniacal dementia was just another headache for Dato. It was all down to him, if he could plan the attack, with their re-enforced fleet, they might have a miniscule chance of survival.


    Dato busied himself modifying the area behind the pilot into a command centre. With Corazon¡¯s help, he installed screens, a 3D projector and communication devices. There was no partition separating the pilot from the cabin, there was no need for a pilot at all. The shuttles all flew on auto which was much safer than having a human in control, even though the passengers apparently felt reassured seeing a pilot with some kind of steering apparatus.


    ¡°If we must do this then we need a strategy,¡± said Dato. ¡°Two Tobias shuttles on point as they are the most heavily armed, two Russian shuttles next, fitted out with missile cells, railguns, and drones. The Russians also have their own weapons, some lasers and ion cannons, almost as if they were expecting a fight.¡±


    ¡°Russians never go anywhere without some type of weapon, probably to stab you in the back when you least expect it,¡± said Lago.


    ¡°Next the Dong Feng shuttles. Some of the passengers aboard were quite inebriated, they needed subduing by our soldiers.¡±


    ¡°Throw them out the airlock if they give us any trouble.¡±


    ¡°The Tobias troop carrier is in front of us next to the other K-star shuttle, all three Tobias shuttles have effectors installed. All the shuttles have printers aboard assembling drones and railguns, and we have thirty weapon platforms throughout the fleet.¡±


    Corazon swung her chair around. ¡°We had two hundred drones left after the destruction of the hub, and we have produced another two hundred. We are making more, but the printers require too much energy, our generators are struggling to keep up and we are running out of substrate,¡± she said.


    ¡°Shut off all non-essential energy needs, divert it all to the generators. We need to print as many as possible,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°What about these effector weapons,¡± said Lago. ¡°We can fry their drones and their operating systems. Then they will be there for the taking.¡±


    ¡°The effectors aren¡¯t like lasers. We have to get them within two kilometres of the target. Our new effector can seize control of an enemy system and enslave it. It¡¯s untested, but could be useful,¡± said Dato.


    Dato felt a little less pessimistic than he had before, at least they had the beginnings of a plan. Corazon had been overseeing the weapons manufacture and had an accurate picture of their martial assets. If he could control the fleet formation and somehow keep Lago out of any important decision making, they might have a chance. Dato had come to know Lago well over the years of service, but in the last few days he had watched him change. There were less moments of lucidity, he was losing control, sinking further into madness. Dato had to take charge. He didn¡¯t want to entrust the last few moments of his life to the mind of an amphetamine-fuelled madman. He wanted the ride to go on a little longer.


    He could see the Moon growing larger in the window. An innocuous-looking dusty white ball, pock marked with ancient craters, it looked totally inhospitable. Dato had taken the Earth for granted like so many others, counting on technology to save them from climate change disaster. But it was time to give up on Earth. He had spent the last year living on the asteroid hub, looking out at the universe instead of down at his dying planet. And now the Earth was surely being eaten by the replicators, turned into a giant all-consuming sphere of destruction. If by some miracle they won this battle and defeated the Masama, Dato would have to accept the Moon as his new home. What kind of life that would be, and how long it would last, he had no idea.


    He sat at the hastily constructed command station with its array of screens, communicators, and keyboards, trying to ignore Lago¡¯s agitated pacing. Next to him Corazon was manipulating the 3D projection of the Moon that hung in front of them. It highlighted their position, nine shuttles in formation, relative to the summit of Montes Haemus. A side window showed a magnified view of the crater. The surrounding Mare Serenitatis was bare and desolate, covered only in harvester tracks. There was a low murmuring from the technicians as the view clarified but other than that it was unusually quiet inside the shuttle.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Activating reverse thrusters. ETA six minutes to lunar orbit,¡± said Corazon.


    ¡°What have they done to the mountain?¡± asked the bald scientist. At the summit of Montes Haemus, a smooth black structure could be seen reaching up into space. A flickering white and red glow came from inside the hollow crater. The slopes were covered with glinting solar panels like a gigantic silver tent.


    ¡°They¡¯re living in there. Like rats in a cave,¡± muttered Lago.


    The fleet approached the Moon with caution. Dato made sure all the drones were primed and all the weapons ready. He knew from his communications with the BPI soldiers on the Dong Feng shuttles that their soldiers were being harassed by Son Tiangong and his entourage. The Russians on the other hand, were harsh and business-like. Dato looked around at the nervous technicians and the stoic soldiers. The plush interior of the Damned Saint was built for comfort and relaxation, not for war. It was supposed to be a serene place of luxurious excess and peaceful observation of the stars. Dato could feel the tension and anxiety building amongst the crew, not helped by Lago¡¯s incessant pacing, teeth grinding and his wild staring eyes.


    ¡°Incoming signal,¡± said Corazon. ¡°Communication from the mountain.¡±


    ¡°Patch it through,¡± said Dato.


    Corazon established a video link and Jejomar¡¯s ornately armoured head appeared where the projection of the Moon had been. Jejomar¡¯s voice came through the comms. The clarity was so good it was like he was there amongst them. ¡°Lago Santos. Why have you come back? There is nothing for you here.¡±


    Dato and Corazon looked on with concern as Lago took a moment to gather himself. ¡°Jejomar, the Moon is all that¡¯s left. You have destroyed my home, now I am going to take yours.¡±


    ¡°The time of humanity is over. The evolutionary wheel has turned. Your short time as custodians of Earth has been disastrous. What you have done to your planet is unforgivable. What is happening now was inevitable. The Earth is being transformed and assimilated. This is the future.¡±


    ¡°I was protecting the planet and its people until you attacked us. You have taken everything from me and now I am taking something back. The Moon is mine and there is no place on it for your kind. Surrender before I destroy you.¡±


    ¡°You have become a degenerate god. Your empire is solely for your own veneration. Everything you say is a lie, and everything you have is stolen. There is no future for you here Lago, go back to Earth and join the Replica hive mind, at least then your corpse may make a worthwhile contribution.¡±


    The bald scientist interrupted, grabbing at Lago¡¯s arm. ¡°Now is the time to broker a deal, this is our last chance to avoid all-out war.¡±


    Lago pushed him aside with an angry glare. It was too late, they were committed to war, and Dato knew Lago wouldn¡¯t change his mind.


    ¡°You can¡¯t intimidate me. If you don¡¯t surrender, we will destroy you. You and all your filthy mutant abominations. I am never going back. I will never give up. The Earth is doomed, it¡¯s being eaten by your robot swarm. This is an attempted extinction, this is omnicide, I am fighting for the future of my species.¡±


    ¡°Your species has no future. You don¡¯t learn from your own history, so you are doomed to repeat it. The Replica sphere doesn¡¯t belong to anyone. We do not control it. Its existence is just as valid as your own and it has proven more adept at survival in a few days than humans have in thousands of years. Go away Lago, your words are empty. If you act aggressively against us, you will be annihilated.¡± Jejomar turned his head and seemed to speak directly to Lago. ¡°Fate has a terrible power; it cannot be escaped by wealth or combat; no walls will keep it out, no ships outrun it. Your fate cannot be taken from you; it is a gift.¡±


    Lago ordered Corazon to cut communications with a swipe of his hand and Jejomar¡¯s image disappeared. Dato sensed the tension build in the charged silence that followed as Lago glared at the Moon. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, unaware of his surroundings until Dato coughed and snapped Lago out of his reverie.


    ¡°Well, what are you waiting for? Attack them!¡±


    ¡°We need a coordinated plan. We can¡¯t just throw everything at them at once. Our only advantage is our mobility. We send in the first two Tobias shuttles with drone support and engage the Masama with missiles and railguns. Then we send in the Russians to pin them back even further until we get close enough to use the effectors and disable their defences. Then hopefully, the new effector on the Tobias troop carrier should be able to enslave and control their systems.¡±


    ¡°No, we should throw everything at them, overwhelm them. Quantity has a quality all of its own and waiting is a disease!¡±


    Dato shook his head with exasperation. ¡°Is that some bullshit corporate talk? This is life and death Lago, not a corporate takeover.¡± Given Lago¡¯s current state of mind, Dato expected he would want to rush in and throw everything they had at the Masama in a hot-headed frenzy of blood lust.


    ¡°Great things come from great risk; I didn¡¯t get to be the most powerful man in the world without taking a few risks.¡±


    Lago¡¯s rambling cliches and the increasingly demented decisions was evidence of his deteriorating state of mind. Dato was used to his paranoia and volatility but the excessive use of amphetamines and nanites were clearly pushing him over the edge. He kept looking over his shoulder and nodding, as if listening to an invisible adviser. ¡°We can¡¯t just throw everything at them, that¡¯s what they want. They are protected inside the mountain; we have to flush them out. If by some miracle we win this war we will need somewhere to live.¡±


    ¡°Send some missiles down the crater, that will flush them out,¡± snarled Lago.


    ¡°Leave the strategy to me Lago. We¡¯ll send four shuttles to attack from different directions. Use our mobility to divide the enemy.¡± Dato reached for the comms; he was sick of arguing but sending in four shuttles was a slight compromise. The fleet had slowed and stopped at a distance of about one hundred kilometres from the Moon¡¯s surface. Dato ordered the two Tobias shuttles and the two Russian shuttles to move forward in an expanding diamond formation. The projection showed their fleet stationary in orbit above the Moon relative to the summit of Montes Haemus below. Their cargo doors opened, the drones and weapon platforms detached and swarmed around each shuttle like orderly insects protecting their queen. The Tobias shuttles looked bulky and bulbous after their modifications. Missile cells, railguns and effector blisters had all been hastily welded onto the exterior. They had never been fast or agile, they were basically service vehicles. They looked like easy targets.


    Dato changed the view to study the Moon surface as Corazon increased the magnification. On the steep slopes of Montes Haemus, hundreds of solar panels glinted in the pale light, covering the rocky inclines with a smooth metallic patina. Corazon shifted the view again and Dato could clearly see the work the Masama had done to modify the mountain into their new home. Solar energy, harvesting helium3, and no doubt their 3D printers were working tirelessly inside the tunnels.


    There was some activity around the launch pads near the shallow crater where the moon-base had once been. Dato could see the two stationary Masama shuttles, looking like giant spiders. They were larger than any of the shuttles in the fleet. Long black torsos with three limbs on each side, they looked like they had been built from the same material as the replicator sphere. Dato couldn¡¯t supress a shudder at the thought of giant arachnid replicators.


    ¡°Corazon, can you increase the magnification there,¡± Dato pointed at the projection.


    ¡°What are those things, robots?¡± Corazon looked puzzled as she manipulated the 3D image.


    Dato could make out smaller shapes moving around the old Tobias shuttle, doing repairs. It had been badly damaged. He hadn¡¯t seen any Masama for a long time, he used to be one and even though they had evolved into creatures closer to giant insects than human beings, he still recognised their movements. ¡°No, they are Masama, they have adapted to work in the vacuum.¡±


    The crew of the shuttle gathered around for a closer look at their adversaries. Lago stopped his pacing and stared at the image, furiously scratching the scar beneath his beard. The Masama had shed any semblance to bi-pedal humans. They stalked around the shuttle on long articulated limbs, balanced and graceful but disturbingly alien like giant six-legged spiders. As Dato watched, one of the Masama reared up on its hind legs. It stretched its long torso even further and flexed its limbs. It appeared to look directly at them, compound eyes embedded in its insectoid head. Its attention seemed to focus on him, looking into his eyes though Dato knew that was impossible at this distance. It bent over the hull of the Tobias shuttle. Welding tools appeared at the end of each limb and dull sparks began to fly from the grinding metal. He hoped they wouldn¡¯t have to send troops to engage them. They wouldn¡¯t last long in hand-to-hand combat with those creatures.


    Inside the shuttle there was a heavy silence as the crew watched the Masama work. The BPI soldiers had been conditioned to appear staunch and unflinching, but the technicians had never seen a Masama like this before. They crowded around the projection to get a closer view. These men and women were scientists, engineers, and academics. They looked upon the giant arachnid Masama with open horror, realising what they were up against. The technicians were not fighters; they had never held a gun. Dato could see the fear on their faces. Fear and the realisation that they had no chance against these monsters. They were already dead. He caught a reflection of himself on a screen and could see the same doomed look on his face.


    He shook his head, trying to disperse the gathering clouds of pessimism. He checked on the four shuttles descending towards the summit, surrounded by their entourage of drones and weapon platforms. ¡°Our best chance is to get close enough to disable them with the effectors, then the railguns can pick them off.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Lago, staring at the screen. ¡°These abominations need to be destroyed. Look at them, not even human any more. We will wipe them off the surface, we will cleanse the Moon and claim it as our own.¡±


    Dato closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Then he looked around at the terrified faces of the crew. There was little chance of winning this war and Lago¡¯s bluster did nothing to reassure any of them.

 Chapter 19.

    Ava could see the scrawny, one-legged chicken behind the overflowing rubbish bin. This time she would catch the stupid bird. Barbeque chicken for dinner, what a luxury! She crept along the gutter, dodging the crates, boxes, and rubbish. People cursed and scolded her to get out of the way as they stepped over and around her. She ignored them, eyes only for the bird. She was close; the chicken jerked its head around with brainless regularity, clucking at the passing people, it craned its neck around and seemed to stare straight at her. Its black eyes widened with intensity, it smiled at her and disappeared.


    What the fuck? Chickens can¡¯t smile. Damn thing was taunting her. She had been chasing it through the markets all day and she wasn¡¯t going to give up now. She ran around the rubbish bin only to see the stupid featherless thing disappear around another corner. She gave chase. She was fast. Faster than some dumb one-legged bird. Around the building and down the alley and she had it cornered. The alleyway was narrow, broken bricks on one side and wooden crates on the other. The chicken stood on its one leg, it cocked its head, regarding her. The Sun beat down from above, brick wall behind, there was no escape.


    As she crept closer, the chicken became more agitated. Hopping up and down, clucking dementedly and trying to fly with its featherless wings. Ava spread her arms out wide and closed in on her prey. She lunged forward, but it evaded her grasp and flapped into the air. Then it was on her head, pecking, scratching, and squawking. She beat at it with her arms and sent it smacking against the wall. It bounced off and landed on the ground, a mess of flailing wings and claws. Its last remaining feather detached from its ass and fluttered in the rising hot air. Ava was on it, she had it pinned to the ground, both hands around its scrawny neck. The boys would be so impressed.


    The chicken stared at her, it stopped struggling. She was about to wring its neck, but she suddenly couldn¡¯t. The chicken started changing beneath her. Its stumpy wings started to grow. Fingery lumps of flesh appeared, hairs and fingernails grew. Its wings turned into human hands reaching for her throat. Ava screamed but she could not let go. Her fingers were locked but she couldn¡¯t strangle the horrible thing, she couldn¡¯t move. The chicken¡¯s fingers were around her throat, choking her. They were choking each other. The chicken¡¯s head started to change. It grew as well. Its eyes grew bigger. Its beak receded and its face flattened. Black hair began to sprout on its head. Ava watched in horror as the chicken¡¯s face started to turn into something she recognised. The head got bigger. The beak turned into a nose. Black hair grew around an evil grinning mouth. The teeth were soaked in blood. The black eyes grew large, too big for the rage filled face. She was flipped over, onto her back and the monster was on top of her. Its hateful face dripping blood and spittle. The Sun loomed behind it. Huge and hot. Her clothes were ripped off, she tried to scream but she was being choked. The thing was too big, it crushed her little body. Its face came close, and it screamed at her. ¡°You fucking bitch!¡± Its head became embroiled in the Sun and its face caught fire. The burning Sun devoured them as they both exploded in flame.


    Ava woke up screaming, tears streaming down her face. Lesedi was there, arms around her, holding her close.


    ¡°It¡¯s just a dream Ava, a bad dream. You¡¯re ok now, you¡¯re ok, I¡¯m here.¡± Lesedi cradled her as she sobbed. She shook uncontrollably as Lesedi comforted her.


    ¡°I don¡¯t usually go that deep,¡± said Ava, slowly recovering. ¡°I¡¯m usually more in control, I don¡¯t let myself dream.¡±


    ¡°Trauma can be buried deep, so deep we forget it¡¯s there, locked away. But it never goes away, it¡¯s not the sort of damage the IA can fix, it¡¯s psychic damage Ava. I have it too. We have to find him; we have to kill him.¡±


    ¡°I know it¡¯s there, but I forget. It¡¯s like a demon inside me waiting for me to relax and sleep so it can torment me some more. I should be stronger. I shouldn¡¯t let him torture me. I thought I had dealt with it but sometimes he ambushes me in dreams like that. We were going to change him, turn him into a force for good. Maybe we still can, but even if his mind is rehabilitated, I could never work with him, I don¡¯t think I could live on the same planet as him.¡±


    ***


    General Mason Mount was thoroughly pissed off. He had been yelling into his satellite phone for the entire flight to Austin, arguing with bureaucrats at the Valhalla missile silo about levels of authority. He knew his story sounded crazy, but he had been there, he had seen it for himself. He had to act fast. There was no time to argue with these idiots. The President was the only one that could authorize a nuclear strike, but the President was playing golf and not taking any calls. The last time General Mount had met America¡¯s Commander in chief he had called him an ignorant, bigoted buffoon for his shambolic handling of the Lassa fever pandemic. So right now, he wasn¡¯t hopeful of convincing the man to nuke the state where he had the strongest support. Still, he had to act fast. After getting nowhere with the officers at Valhalla he directed the helicopter to Austin. He would try to convince the state governor in person. His mind was in overdrive, weighing options, thinking about his next move and wondering what he would be prepared to do. He strode up the steps where the governor was waiting, arms folded over his corpulent belly. ¡°Have you looked at the satellite footage Governor? I¡¯m telling you it¡¯s the only solution, we have to nuke it.¡±


    ¡°I am not nuking my own god-damn state,¡± replied Governor Brown, looking resplendent in a white and blue pinstripe suit complete with a red cap proclaiming; ¡®Don¡¯t mess with Texas.¡¯


    General Mount did not have much respect for Governor Brown either. The governor had shown clearly over the years that he cared more about his own bank balance than the people of Texas. He had recently achieved billionaire status while millions of his fellow Texans lived below the poverty line. General Mount took his own job as protector of the people very seriously. Being top dog in the military made him ultimately responsible for the safety of all citizens, and despite the fact that this state had its fair share of crazies and extremists, General Mount had a large amount of empathy for the good people of Texas.


    The Governor looked him up and down and grimaced. ¡°You want me to nuke the state I have been looking after for ten years? The state I was born in? Hell no! General, if you have gone insane, I will have to relieve you of your duties.¡±


    ¡°Governor, it has to be done and done quickly before there is no state left. Go and look at the satellite footage if you don¡¯t believe me. Every second we waste arguing, a few more miles of Texas will have disappeared. You are the only one the President will listen to, go and talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Are you out of your mind General? I will not unleash flaming nuclear destruction on the good people of Carthage! That''s one sure way of losing votes. I would rather eat shit for breakfast. You¡¯re the military mastermind, you think of a solution. And who the hell is this young¡¯un? Looks like he''s been hit with the ugly stick. Close your mouth boy.¡±


    The General glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to see Ethan there standing close behind him. ¡°This is Ethan, he¡¯s the fella who discovered the machines. He¡¯s also the only survivor from Carthage. There¡¯s no one there left to vote for you Governor, they¡¯ve all been eaten. There¡¯s a gigantic alien swarm out there that¡¯s growing faster every second, it¡¯ll have covered Panola County by now. Won¡¯t be long before Shreveport, Longview and Tyler go under then Dallas, Houston and Austin will be next. Governor, you haven¡¯t seen this thing, it just eats everything it comes into contact with. Trees, rocks, dirt, people, and everything it eats makes it grow faster. I threw everything I had at it. All the big guns, even the hellfire missiles had no effect, it just pissed the fucker off. If you don¡¯t authorize a nuclear strike, you will have no state left to govern, your mansion and your millions all gone. Then the whole fucking country. I¡¯m telling you we have to stop it now or we are all fucked.¡±


    ¡°General, I¡¯m not sure if you know how nuclear weapons work. There is an almighty explosion that obliterates everything for miles, then there¡¯s the radiation, electro-pulse, and shock waves. We would be putting ourselves in danger right here in Austin.¡±


    ¡°I know how nukes work, Governor. If you would just go look at the satellite footage you will see what I¡¯m talking about.¡± General Mount struggled to maintain his composure; they were running out of time. He wished he could fly straight to the recommissioned Valhalla nuclear missile silo near Abilene and push the button himself, but he would have to force his way in.


    ¡°And how do you know a nuclear missile will even work? How can you be sure throwing a nuke at it will even stop this alien machine thing,¡± said the Governor.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that nukes are the biggest guns we have and if there was ever a time to use them, it¡¯s now. And I¡¯m not talking about one missile, it¡¯s going to take more than that to slow this thing down. If it doesn¡¯t, nowhere is safe, we will all be eaten by swarms of little robot bugs. Texas, the States, then the whole god-damned planet. All gone. You have to order an immediate state-wide evacuation then you have to order a nuclear strike on Carthage right now General. I know most people won¡¯t make it; a lot of people will die but if we can stop this thing it will be worth the sacrifice.¡±


    The Governor stared at him for a second then shook his head. ¡°Listen to yourself General, sacrifice the State of Texas? God-damned alien bugs? You get back there and fight it. Whatever the hell it is. Go and do your job, do what you are paid for. Leave the big decisions to me. Swarms of little black robots, I¡¯ve never heard such nonsense. I am seriously doubting your competence. And your sanity. Questions will be asked when all this is over.¡± Governor Brown turned and shuffled his big frame back into his offices waving dismissively and muttering to himself.


    General Mount stood there fuming for a second. Biting his toothpick in half, turned and strode back towards his helicopter. Ethan followed closely behind like an obedient puppy. He had a picture in his mind of the machine sphere growing faster and faster while they had been arguing. Time was running out; he would have to take charge of the situation. ¡°We¡¯ll take Valhalla by force and launch the missiles ourselves,¡± he barked at his soldiers.


    He didn''t see the descending aircraft until it was almost on top of him. The spinning rotors caused a downdraught but there was no noise. ¡°What the fuck?¡± he muttered and stepped back a few paces as the craft gently landed in the space in front of his helicopter. It was an elongated discus shape with two rotors built into the fuselage on either side of the main body to provide the vertical lift and another rotor at the end for thrust. The unmarked, silver, streamlined disc glinted in the sunlight. He had never seen anything like it and was immediately suspicious, after today''s events he wasn''t taking any chances. ¡°Draw weapons,¡± he said and gestured to his troops to establish a perimeter.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    The rotors wound down and a seam appeared at the front of the craft where a ramp opened with a hiss. It lowered itself to the ground and the General could see a strange collection of people walking down the ramp, out into the sunlight. It was very unnerving, these people, if that''s what they were, obviously had higher-level tech than the US military. The General thought he knew the tech levels of all rival military organisations, home and abroad. But this silent silver flying disc appearing out of nowhere made him feel like a primitive from the fifties confronted with a UFO. He hated being at such a disadvantage. Even more confusing was the appearance of the inhabitants of this flying machine. Five of them, standing there blinking in the sunlight. An ancient and intense looking man with a long white beard and flowing robes approached them. Behind him were four people, two women and two men, one of the women holding a baby. They were all dressed in tight one-piece suits that had hints of shimmering camouflage patterns flickering across them. They did not carry weapons; they did not look threatening. Mason looked into the old man¡¯s piercing blue eyes as he faced them.


    ¡°He looks like... God,¡± said Ethan who had pushed his way through the soldiers and was standing next to the general again, staring in open mouthed awe at the new arrivals. ¡°Pretty strange looking angels though.¡±


    General Mount elbowed Ethan back behind him and threw him a derisory look before turning back to the visitors. ¡°Stay where you are, come no further. State your business.¡±


    The old man smiled, his blue eyes glinting. ¡°I am no god young man, my name is Enoch, and these are my companions, Ava, Lesedi, Noah and Mahdi. The baby¡¯s name is Carasco. We are here to help you with your replicator problem.¡±


    Texas was full of crackpot religious nuts, doomsday preppers and conspiracy theorists and if these people had arrived in an old bus the General would not have given them the time of day. But the fact that they had arrived in the closest thing to a flying saucer he had ever seen and that four of them seemed to be wearing high-tech camo suits made the general think he should hear them out. ¡°Replicators? What do you know of these alien machines?¡±


    ¡°The machines were created on the Moon as a construction tool. A coronal mass ejection altered their instruction set and sent them on a single-minded course of mass consumption. They have only one objective, to make endless copies of themselves. And in order to fulfil their objective, they can detect the magnetic energy of any object down to a cellular level, to use as substrate, to fuel their expansion.¡±


    ¡°Who created them?¡±


    ¡°The Masama. Augmented BPI soldiers that liberated themselves from the employ of Lago Santos to create their own settlement on the Moon. It was an accident, but it was inevitable. This is the logical conclusion of the advances made in AI technology on Earth and in space, leading to the birth of semi-sentient machines. If not the Masama, it would have been someone else.¡±


    ¡°Should have known Santos was behind all this,¡± muttered the General. ¡°Ok Grandad, firstly who the hell are you people, how do you know all this and what do you plan to do about it? And why the hell did you bring a baby into this mess!¡±


    ¡°Carasco stays with me, he wanted to come,¡± said Lesedi.


    ¡°Who we are and what we know are irrelevant questions. We are going to stop the replicators. There is not much time as you doubtless know General,¡± said Enoch.


    General Mount was about to reply when he was interrupted by an ashen-faced Governor who had reappeared from his building waving a tablet screen at him. ¡°Mason, look at this, it¡¯s eating my state! What the hell is it?¡± Governor Brown held the tablet with shaking hands.


    General Mount looked at the Governor suspiciously, it was the first time he had ever used his first name. The tablet showed a satellite view from directly above Carthage. They studied the magnified view of the replicator¡¯s expansion, a giant black circle in the middle of East Texas. A side window gave the dimensions, numbers growing as they watched. It was one hundred and fifty kilometres in diameter, almost five-hundred-kilometres circumference and it was creeping across the countryside into Louisiana, growing bigger all the time.


    ¡°This is what I was trying to warn you about, Governor, this will destroy our country if we don''t act.¡±


    ¡°I spoke to the President; a nuclear missile strike is being readied as we speak. We need to evacuate; we need to act fast Mason.¡±


    General Mount gave him a withering look and turned back to Enoch. ¡°Thanks for your input, Grandad but we have it under control, you better get in your aircraft and get the hell out of Texas.¡±


    ¡°General, this is an outside context problem you cannot solve with nuclear weapons or any conventional weapons. It is much worse than you think, the replicators are expanding on Earth¡¯s surface but what you cannot see is their expansion into the mantle. It is already over one hundred kilometres deep. The Earth will start shifting from its axis soon due to the shift in its electro-magnetic mass. It will hardly even notice your nuclear weapons, they will just make it stronger, I am not asking permission General, the only reason I am here, is so you don¡¯t launch your missiles while I am integrating with the replicator core.¡±


    ¡°You want to integrate with that thing?¡±


    ¡°Just give me fifteen minutes, there is a core of replicators deep inside the sphere that travelled from the Moon and were altered by the coronal mass ejection. I will make contact with the core and alter their instruction set. There is no time to explain the dynamics of the interface. Fifteen minutes, and if the replicators are still reproducing exponentially, I will have failed, and you can launch your nuclear weapons. For all the good they will do.¡± Enoch turned and strode back to his aircraft without waiting for an answer.


    The General shook his head, perplexed. Next to him Governor Brown and Ethan stood looking equally bewildered. General Mount had always acted on his instincts, he trusted his judgement of people, he could tell with a glance what most people were about, but this was a big risk he was taking. ¡°Give him his fifteen minutes,¡± he said to the Governor.


    ¡°What? Are you insane? Do you actually believe that crazy old hippy? I will do no such¡­¡±


    The general rounded on Governor Brown. ¡°Shut the fuck up and wait!¡± he yelled. He turned and marched towards the old man¡¯s aircraft. This was irrational, leaving his troops and deserting his command, but he had to see what these strangers could do. He had been studying them as the old man talked. There was something about them, a calmness, an aura of knowledge and empathy, he was strangely drawn to them. He followed the old man up the ramp into the craft. Enoch and his companions seemed unsurprised and took their places inside. The general could barely feel the craft take off. He turned to look at the receding view and bumped into Ethan again. ¡°God-dammit boy do you have to follow me everywhere?¡±


    General Mount took a seat next to Enoch as he looked around the spacious interior of the VLR. From the outside, the spine of the VLR seemed to be about the size of a small bus, but the inside space appeared much bigger, like the spacious interior of a modern luxury yacht. Enoch leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, ¡°it¡¯s a trick of the light, an optical illusion, like many things in life.¡±


    General Mount nodded. ¡°I''ll ask you again. Who are you people?¡±


    ¡°Just a collective of like-minded humans. We have been quietly renovating Miami, living on the water with the alligators. Removed from society and its material distractions.¡± Enoch smiled at the General.


    ¡°How did you acquire such technology? This aircraft? Those suits? You seem augmented but I can''t see the hardware.¡±


    Enoch maintained his enigmatic smile, reached out and touched the hull of the VLR. It immediately turned into a transparent window, and the sight of the Texan countryside flying past underneath gave the General a momentary sense of vertigo.


    ¡°Fucking hell!¡± exclaimed Ethan who lurched forward almost falling into the Generals lap.


    ¡°We are almost there,¡± said Enoch.


    General Mount could see the swelling dust clouds, an insubstantial brown wall rapidly approaching as the replicators churned up swathes of dry land. Within seconds they flew through the dust cloud and over the edge of the growing replicator sphere. Noah piloted the VLR over the black dome engulfing the horizon, now bigger than a city, taller than a mountain. General Mount sensed an immediate temperature increase and the air above the replicator dome shifted and twisted in the rising heat. The surface was a blur of activity, making it impossible to focus on a fixed point. They were almost over the centre of the dome. The land had disappeared, and in every direction was an ocean of replicators. He felt an overwhelming sense of pessimism. No number of nuclear weapons could stop this, there was nowhere to run, no escape. What could one old man do? And yet Enoch¡¯s confidence and composure generated a tiny flicker of hope. It was the only hope he had, the only hope for the Earth.


    Enoch rose and went to his companions. He hugged each of them and kissed Carasco on the forehead. Ava shed some tears, but no one said anything. General Mount understood that they were saying goodbye. Noah circled the VLR above the top of the replicator dome, then descended to about one hundred metres above the churning black mass. The ramp at the back of the VLR opened and the General had to clamp his hands over his ears. The noise was deafening, a horrible shrill chittering white noise like a plague of amplified locusts. He could see the dome bulging out towards the VLR, as if trying to catch it, but the VLR rose to maintain its distance.


    Enoch approached General Mount and Ethan, still smiling serenely. ¡°What can you possibly do to stop this thing? You are just one man,¡± yelled the General over the deafening cacophony. Enoch didn¡¯t open his mouth to talk but the General could hear him clearly. He realised with a shock that Enoch was speaking to him psychically.


    ¡°It¡¯s true, I am just a man. But I believe I can stop the replicators. They are simple viral machines, and I am the vaccine. I can sense your curiosity, Mason; we don¡¯t have time for explanations, but I can show you if you like.¡±


    General Mount was indeed curious. The old man¡¯s voice was warm and comforting, like golden syrup in his head. But decades of military training had made Mason extremely suspicious of anything that couldn¡¯t be explained with numbers and logic. He had a vague notion of what Enoch was suggesting and he understood that even considering the suggestion was wildly irrational. It went against all his martial sensibilities. Accepting some foreign, possibly even alien intelligence into his body that he didn¡¯t know anything about, was antithetic to everything he had practiced after decades in the Texan National Guard.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in that stuff!¡± he shouted.


    ¡°But that stuff believes in you, General,¡± sent Enoch.


    Ethan pushed past the General. ¡°I believe it!¡±


    General Mount realised Enoch had been communicating with Ethan at the same time. Enoch stepped towards Ethan, held his face in his cupped hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. The General watched Ethan¡¯s facial expression change from the permanent open-mouthed look of bewilderment to something resembling calm serenity. Enoch reached up and held the General¡¯s face in the same way. General Mount did not have to say anything, he understood that Enoch knew how he felt, that despite his training and years of service, despite his reservations and suspicions he was ready for a change. He felt a momentary revulsion at the fact he was about to kiss an old man and then it happened. He didn¡¯t feel anything at first, then gradually, he began to understand.


    Enoch moved towards the edge of the ramp as the VLR hovered stationary above the seething mass below. He turned and looked at them all. General Mount could sense his companion¡¯s thoughts, Ava, Noah, Mahdi and Lesedi were radiating sadness at the impending loss of their friend, but they were also proud of him and curiously excited as to what would happen next. He sensed Ethan¡¯s mind expanding like a flower opening, blossoming with new knowledge.


    Enoch stepped off the edge of the ramp and fell down to the surface of the replicator dome. The noise was deafening, and waves of heat rose from the dome as Enoch plummeted to the surface. The distance was over one hundred metres, Enoch¡¯s body was obscured by the thick layer of buzzing insects, the replicators swarmed all over him as he fell. The surface was not a solid sphere but an insubstantial swarm. Flashes of blood and gore were absorbed instantly. General Mason thought he could see Enoch look up at them as his body was consumed, the same serene expression on his face, he raised his arms and he was gone, dissolved into the churning chaotic mass.

 Chapter 20.

    Ojerime rolled off the memory foam and went to the bioprinter. She programmed a salty slab of meat to go with her potato cake. She studied Kurzawa¡¯s sleeping form as she pulled some hanging vegetation down from the hydroponics and jammed it in the blender. Her apartment was built into the corner of a cavern with soundproof walls that separated it from the other dwellings. The walls were interactive screens, currently showing a real time view of the Sun, its filtered light illuminated the room with a golden glow. The floor was polished black basalt which seemed to extend down to infinity. She opened the flask of bright green vegetable juice and took a gulp, then screwed up her face and looked suspiciously at the flask before drinking the rest. The thick layer of rock above the hanging plants offered protection from cosmic radiation and regulated the temperature. When they were living under the fragile domes of the moon-base, she had constantly been in close proximity to her people and their chatter. Now she had her own peaceful space and she relished it. Over by the door, her exo-suit stood next to Kurzawa¡¯s, slumped together like two spurned friends.


    A message from Dakila alerted her to the approaching shuttles. With a touch she manipulated the view on her screen and watched them manoeuvring in the space above the Moon. Kurzawa also received the message and woke up. He rolled over and smiled at Ojerime before frowning at the screen. ¡°Oh dear, they are gluttons for punishment aren¡¯t they.¡±


    Ojerime chewed her breakfast with sharp silver teeth. She felt a twinge of guilt at the part the Masama had played in reducing humanity to this. But guilt led to regret, regrets were of the past and she didn¡¯t like to think of the past. Like all of the Masama, she focused on the future.


    She stepped into her suit which woke up and folded itself around her body. The suit became an extension of her, reacting to her every movement. It protected and enhanced her. She wore it so often it was a second skin. She took the titanium alloy head piece and studied her reflection on its surface. Her skin was smooth and dark, contrasting her silver teeth and compound eyes. Each eyeball was made up of thousands of independent photoreception units. Ojerime could see tiny reflections of herself in each one. Some Masama took to decorating their suits, adding ornate attachments and different coloured alloys but a standard functioning suit was a beautiful thing on its own. Ojerime put the head piece over her face, and it clicked into place. She did not feel the need to decorate. She exercised her creativity designing the virtual realm.


    They walked together out into the central lava tube that ran through the middle of the habitat and jumped onto a small transporter that was moving supplies uphill. They rolled past apartments and the green spaces built where the temperature was most comfortable for plants and people. She glimpsed children playing in the green. Teaching them the sciences was Ojerime¡¯s favourite job. The children had a joyful innocence, an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and an amazing aptitude for assimilating new tech.


    ¡°Our socialist Lunar utopia, where everyone works for the greater good,¡± sent Kurzawa.


    Ojerime looked at him sideways, she couldn¡¯t tell if he was serious or sarcastic. She smiled behind her mask; Kurzawa liked to keep her guessing; it was one of the things she liked about him.


    In the drone factory, a production line of 3D printers produced titanium shells, and robotic arms installed the helium3 fusion reactors. The Masama working with welding attachments were almost impossible to differentiate from the robots. The titanium shells they were working on were printed with cavities for the reactor, the boosters, the operating system, cameras, and a particle beam weapon. The finishing touch was the attachment of the diamond warhead with a one-hundred kiloton thermonuclear bomb. Ojerime looked at them with mixed feelings. They still had over a thousand war drones ready to fly and could manufacture more every hour. They had taken months to build but now production had slowed without the assistance of the Replica robots. She did not want to go to war, there were so many better things they could be used for.


    The tube tapered upwards to the crater opening until it was too steep for the transporter. Ojerime and Kurzawa wound their way up the wide stairs to an internal cavern inside the summit that had been processed into smooth black obsidian by the Replica. If she looked up through the opening at the top, she could see stars. They reached the top of the stairs and made their way over to Jejomar and Dakila, arriving just in time to hear Jejomar¡¯s conversation with Lago. His projected image froze as the conversation ended. Ojerime remembered Lago as a man with cold calm confidence. But now he looked demented. His inflamed face twisted with rage. His bloodshot eyes were bulging, and he ground his teeth ferociously.


    ¡°The self-proclaimed god of Earth, what a fine example of humanity,¡± sent Kurzawa. They studied his image before Dakila switched it back to a view of the shuttles.


    ¡°He is obviously insane. Everything that has happened to him, and his planet, has broken his mind,¡± sent Ojerime.


    ¡°He is deluded to think he can attack us with his shabby fleet of shuttles. It would be suicide. What can he hope to achieve but certain death?¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°He is desperate, he has nothing to lose,¡± sent Jejomar. ¡°That makes him dangerous.¡±


    ¡°The Replica were never meant to devour the entire planet. They were supposed to come back to the Moon and work for us. Now we must hope they never return,¡± sent Ojerime. She had been so enthusiastic about sending the Replica into the path of the CME to empower them and prove her theory. The atomic nuclei had done more than stimulate sentience. They had created an insatiable Eartheater.


    Jejomar shook his head. ¡°The Replica do what they must, they recycle. We are not responsible for them anymore but if they return to the moon, we will try to connect with them. We are their makers, and they will recognise us. Lago¡¯s demise was inevitable. The path he has chosen was always going to lead to his own destruction.¡±


    ¡°I know that destroying his elevator was necessary to stop him expanding and keep him on Earth, but now the Replica are destroying his planet. He has nowhere else to go.¡±


    The Replica sphere has become a conscious entity. Just like us. Its creation was the result of a series of coincidences. The power of the Sun has given the Replica life, just as its cosmic rays stimulated HEMI years ago. This is evolution on display and their existence is just as valid as our own.¡± Jejomar regarded her for a moment. ¡°Ojerime, what are you suggesting?¡±


    Ojerime despised Lago for his attempted sterilization and subjugation of the Masama, and his bigoted speciesism. She knew he regarded the Masama as little more than inconvenient animals. She did not feel any particular affinity with the human race but the rest of them were not complicit. And somewhere inside herself, she still felt connected to her biological human origins. After all, beneath her tempered skin and exo-suit were mostly human organs. She didn¡¯t want to see a whole species wiped out without doing a thing to help. ¡°Maybe we don¡¯t have to destroy them. Maybe we can accommodate them here on the Moon. It wouldn¡¯t be difficult to build some new domes for them, under our control. Let them live, show some mercy.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Mercy? Do you think they would show us any mercy?¡± sent Dakila. ¡°They are a plague that needs to be wiped out. A parasite that destroys the host. They slowly and insidiously poison everything and everyone around them.¡±


    Ojerime tuned into the virtual space to discuss this with all the Masama. She had created signal amplifiers and placed them all around the mountain to increase the connectivity so the Masama could participate from a distance. This time the virtual realm she met them in was the space between Sirius A, the brightest star in the sky, twice as massive as the Sun. And Sirius B, its celestial partner, a dense white dwarf. The two stars were locked in an eternal dance around each other, forever circling, as if trying to escape the tether of their binding gravitational orbits. No one had ever been to the Dog Star system and Ojerime only had distant data to create this realm. It was wildly out of scale. The two stars looked close enough to touch. Most of the Masama had chosen comets, asteroids, and moons as their avatars. She had chosen a giant apple.


    She floated around the giant binary star studying the detail and examining the other Masama. The virtual space was becoming more tangible. Sometimes more revealing than reality as the Masama were transparently open and honest here. The avatars they chose as representatives were a reflection of their mood and personality, revealing enough on their own. Ojerime¡¯s apple blushed a bright shade of red. The endless possibilities of the virtual realm was an exciting new frontier and at the moment the realm was alive with opinions. Ojerime could sense that very few of those opinions shared any sympathy for Lago and the last shreds of humanity floating with him in their collection of shuttles.


    Dakila¡¯s opinions were obvious just by looking at him. An armoured spider, bristling with weapons and razor-sharp claws. Jejomar was a little more circumspect. He was a woolly mammoth, swaggering through the sun-drenched space with thick fur and big curving tusks. ¡°Ojerime, you know Lago would never accept such a proposal; he would never willingly submit to us but if he did, the humans would be little more than prisoners. He is here to kill us all or die trying. I appreciate your empathetic view but there can only be one outcome.¡±


    Kurzawa was one of the few Masama that sympathised with Ojerime. ¡°Lago won¡¯t survive, that is certain. But the rest of his crew don¡¯t have to die. If they could be separated somehow, maybe they could live with us.¡± For his avatar, Kurzawa had chosen a child from an old horror movie he remembered from his past life on Earth. He had explained to Ojerime the movie had a profound effect on him when he was young and made him wonder about the existence of good and evil. The boy stalked around the space, glaring at the other Masama with dark, sinister eyes. ¡°We could teach them how to survive on the Moon without ruining it. As long as they stay away from Dakila.¡±


    ¡°They are all guilty,¡± sent a passing comet. ¡°Either they are Lago¡¯s minions, or they are wealthy elite trying to escape their polluted planet. Kill them all.¡±


    ¡°We used to work for Lago once.¡± Ojerime floated closer to Sirius A. The light was blinding, and heat radiated from the orb. She stopped as she could sense her skin blistering, thinking she would have to adjust the virtual heat settings.


    Dakila prowled precisely on his multiple limbs. His weapon attachments were fantastic. Telescopic barrels, razor cannons, spinning drill bits, claws, fangs, and barbed blades bristled all over his carapace. ¡°Everything they touch they corrupt and defile. They are much worse than mindless replicators. Can you imagine if they had achieved interplanetary travel? Spreading their vile pollution and xenophobia around the solar system? Letting them live here on our Moon would be like purposely introducing a cancer cell. They must be destroyed for the healthy evolution of all spacefaring intelligence.¡±


    Ojerime understood how most of the Masama felt, and the overwhelming majority agreed with Dakila. She accepted their consensus with gloomy resignation for the fate of the humans. Her first inclination was to avoid any death at all, if possible, but her allegiances were always with the Masama. The extinction of the human race would not make any difference to her life on the Moon. She floated closer to the Sun until her skin started to split and bubble, testing the heat parameters.


    Jejomar strode into the middle of the space and shook his huge hairy head. ¡°Ready the drones and the shuttles, we will not make the first move. We will establish the perimeter and if they cross it, we will destroy them.¡±


    Ojerime shifted back into the real as Jejomar reconnected the comms link with the shuttle fleet. ¡°Lago Santos this is your final warning. If you cross within fifty kilometres of the summit of Mount Haemus you will be destroyed. Go away. Leave us alone.¡± His metallic voice echoed around the cave. There was no reply from the orbiting shuttles.


    Jejomar had set the perimeter. Now it was up to Lago and his fleet of shuttles, if they started a war then so be it. Their choice. Ojerime turned and made her way back down the tube. She knew her duties. She and Kurzawa were to pilot one of the shuttles if needed. They travelled back down the lava tube to the gaping entrance where the other two pilots were waiting. Ojerime flexed her exo-suit and put her arms on the ground. With a glance at Kurzawa, she extended her arms and legs and began bounding across the surface on all fours.


    ¡°I doubt we¡¯ll see any action; the drones will do all the fighting. Our shuttles will probably only be used to round up any leftover debris for recycling,¡± sent Kurzawa.


    ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate Lago, he thinks he¡¯s a god. Unkillable. He will never give up.¡±


    ¡°He has a demented strength, but he is only human. He will end up in the decompilers with the rest of our waste.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s true the Replica are recycling the entire planet Earth, then we are about to go to war with the last of the human race. I wish there was another way.¡±


    ¡°If it was anyone else but Lago, that might have been possible. But he has single-handedly doomed his people. We have to defend ourselves.¡±


    He was right, but it didn¡¯t help. She focused on the shuttles parked on the old landing pad in the middle of Mare Serenitatis. Ojerime had already connected with the operating system running their ship and woken it up. Solar panels surrounded the shuttles that transferred the Sun¡¯s energy into their operating systems. They had a primitive artificial sentience, but their operating systems had been unresponsive to the cosmic rays. Ojerime had not yet identified the exact conditions in which the cosmic rays would stimulate machine intelligence. Maybe it was all accidental coincidence she thought as they climbed aboard their assigned shuttle, the Hard Vacuum. Jejomar had wanted to name the Masama shuttles. He wanted the shuttles to have an identity given their semi-sentience. After one of the most heated debates in the virtual realm, they had eventually decided on: Hard Vacuum, and Mutually Assured Destruction.


    The message came from Jejomar, signalling all the Masama at once. Most of Lago¡¯s fleet had stopped before the fifty-kilometre limit but four shuttles were advancing with a complement of drones and weapon platforms. Ojerime sighed, looked up and focused her sparkling compound eyes on the shuttles above. She could see them silhouetted against the darkness like vulnerable little moths drawn to a flame. She shook her head and cursed. ¡°Is he really blinded by so much rage that he would sacrifice himself, his people, and his shuttles? Or does he know something we don¡¯t?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think he would have the cojones to actually attack us. Shows you how psychotic he has become. Dakila is right, the universe will be better off without them,¡± sent Kurzawa.


    The first swarm of two hundred drones appeared from the summit of Montes Haemus. They would have flown from the factories, straight up the lava tube, through the cavern inside the summit and out into the space above. The drones stationed themselves over the summit, each one in its precisely calibrated position. The formation hovered in a stationary pyramid, sparkling in the sunlight.

 Chapter 21.

    Lago had achieved a state of perfect clarity. Every muscle in his body was tense and poised, charged with energy and power, ready for action. His mind was a weapon, calculating numbers, angles, simulations, and strategies. When he operated on this level, he knew without doubt that he was superior. It was his ability to separate himself from the tedious, painfully slow machinations of his fellow humans that marked his authority. He summoned Klara with a wave.


    ¡°You don¡¯t need any more nanites Lago. You have enough in your body. Taking more could be dangerous.¡±


    He snatched the medical bag from her and started rummaging through. ¡°I am the only one capable of saving this crew, of saving humanity. I need to be razor sharp to win this war.¡±


    He found the bottle and glared at Klara as he drank it down. Then cracked a couple of vials and snorted them both. The voices in his head were becoming louder and more demanding. They didn¡¯t bother him. He knew he wasn¡¯t crazy because the voices were his. An internal commentary justifying his every move. ¡°I know!¡± he yelled, looking over his shoulder. ¡°I am their leader. I have to save my people! I don¡¯t care what colour they are or what country they come from. They all look the same to me. I don¡¯t believe in any higher power. I am the higher power.¡±


    His entire crew were staring at him. He realised with a shock he had been thinking out loud. Projecting his internal dialogue. He didn¡¯t care. He carried on regardless. ¡°Once we take the Moon we can start again, we can build an orderly, progressive utopian society. We can breed a new generation of humans. Learning from the mistakes of the past. Under my guidance we will prosper, we will evolve. We should be thankful for this opportunity.¡± Lago¡¯s stream of consciousness wasn¡¯t directed at anyone in particular, when he was in this heightened state of mind, his inspirational monologue could not be stopped.


    The shuttle fleet had parked in a stationary orbit on the fifty-kilometre limit that Jejomar had set. Lago looked at Dato. He had his hand over his eyes and was slowly shaking his head. ¡°Dato, status report.¡±


    Dato sighed heavily. ¡°I have sent the two Tobias shuttles ahead, one to the east, and one to the west. The two Russian shuttles will be deployed north and south. We must use our mobility to our advantage. The remaining five shuttles should split into three groups. The Tobias troop carrier with one of the Dong Feng moving north and the Honourable Villain with the other Dong Feng to the south while we stay here and coordinate.¡±


    Lago struggled to pay attention. He wanted to commit everything at once, to overwhelm the enemy. But he forced himself to consider Dato¡¯s advice. Dato¡¯s plans were always accurate and effective but his lack of respect infuriated Lago. He was the voice of common sense. Lago had a profound disdain for common sense. He needed to establish his authority in front of the crew and was about to shout some orders at Dato again when one of the scientists spoke up. Lago recognised his bald head and piercing eye augments. It was the same technician whose shoulders he had crushed.


    ¡°We need to make sure we protect our scientists. Our skills and knowledge will be needed if we are to populate the Moon. That should be the priority,¡± said the bald man. He was standing too close to Lago, nervously staring at the projection.


    Lago gave him a scathing look, but the man stayed where he was, anxious to have his concerns heard. ¡°Fuck off back to your seat and keep your opinions to yourself. If you want to live, you follow my instructions. Same goes for the rest of you.¡± Lago glared at the group of nervous scientists.


    As he turned back to the projection, a swarm of Masama drones appeared from the crimson summit of Montes Haemus. They flew out of the glowing crater like a hive of disturbed bees and quickly arranged themselves in a stationary pyramid formation floating above the summit.


    ¡°There¡¯s too many to attack all at once. We need to split them up where we can pick them off. Keep them occupied while we try to get the effectors within range,¡± said Dato.


    Lago was still seething that Dato had overruled his plan of all-out attack and he had to take his anger out on something. He was glad to see the enemy drones, he was hungry for battle, he wanted to witness the annihilation of the Masama up close. He craved their destruction, he needed more amphetamine, more nanites. He would destroy the enemy drones with the intensity of his glare. He would crush their mountain with his bare hands.


    ¡°Follow your instructions, prepare all the drones and charge all your weapons. Keep all the printers operating at maximum output.¡± Dato barked into the comms as the shuttle fleet moved into position.


    Lago hovered behind Corazon who manipulated the projection. She zoomed in and magnified the Masama drone swarm. The overall view had exquisite detail, showing the entire theatre of battle from the shuttle formation, down to the surface of the Moon. Stark sunlight highlighted every participating piece with no atmosphere to distort the clarity. It was a real time view uncluttered by icons or symbols. Side windows displayed the detail, distances, weapons inventory, and alerts to enemy activity. Lago couldn¡¯t make sense of all the numbers. He tried to concentrate on his four shuttles descending towards the mountain.


    ¡°Advancing shuttles, use thirty percent of your missiles. Target the crater of Montes Haemus. Launch your weapon platforms around your shuttle for protection. Are you ready?¡± Dato shouted into the comms.


    Confirmations came back quickly from the shuttle fleet. Dato looked around at Lago who nodded grimly.


    ¡°Fire,¡± said Dato.


    Lago watched the missiles cross the fifty-kilometre gap within seconds. He could see the metal glistening in the light and the glowing flares as they raced towards the mountain. The four missile clusters converged from different directions on the summit. Lago surged with adrenalin. This was his element. He was at his best in the heat of battle. Where others would crumble, he thrived. He trusted his instincts. The Masama were a sitting target, they would not be able to withstand his bombardment.


    As soon as the missiles were launched the Masama drones dispersed. They moved with alarming speed, diverging in four different directions to intercept. Most of the missiles exploded long before they got close to the drones, but several got through.


    ¡°Why are they exploding?¡± yelled the scientist.


    ¡°Shut up,¡± spat Lago. ¡°Go stand over there and calm down.¡±


    ¡°Must be some kind of beam weapon. It¡¯s not visible with no atmosphere,¡± said Dato.


    The missiles flared briefly, sparkling with harsh incandescence, then faded to nothing. The enemy particle beams became visible as they burned through the vapour clouds and wreckage of the missiles. Their beams dissolved into nothing the further they went like a flashlight in the darkness. It happened so rapidly, and Lago tried to take in all the detail, his brain was functioning at high speed but there were too many screens and too many scrolling numbers.


    He watched the few remaining missiles converge on the drone swarm. The drones moved with synchronicity and speed, targeting the approaching missiles with unerring accuracy and sacrificing themselves in flares of short-lived nuclear fire. Brief explosions highlighted the impact points before quickly fading into vapour clouds and tiny flickering shards of debris. Lago finally managed to focus on the numbers. Thirteen missiles had survived the particle beams only to be destroyed by the kamikaze drones. It had taken twenty-six Masama drones, there were still one hundred and seventy-four left in the swarm that flew through the dispersing wreckage towards the closest shuttles.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°Weapon platforms target the enemy drones with your railguns,¡± shouted Dato. ¡°Tobias and Russian shuttles launch fifty of your drones.¡±


    Lago furiously rubbed the scar on his chin. His eyes burned with concentration as the platforms opened fire. The railgun slugs thudded into the oncoming Masama drones. Lumps of iron smashed into the titanium drones at eight thousand kilometres an hour. Too fast to see apart from a brief silver flash like a lightning strike with no air to carry the sound. Lago snarled with satisfaction as the drones were annihilated by the barrage. Railguns were simple weapons he could relate to. Just solid slugs of iron, no explosives but the devastating speed of the slugs would destroy any target. The drones were halted in mid-air by the first impact, the second and third slugs tore straight through them. The reactors inside the drones exploded, creating a brief fireball before they were transformed into a cloud of dispersing debris.


    Explosive sparks illuminated Lago¡¯s face as over a hundred enemy drones succumbed to the barrage. The BPI drones flew into the charged space and engaged the enemy with their smaller railguns as more Masama drones appeared from the mountain crater. The scene was bewildering, a chaotic dogfight. Corazon magnified a few individual encounters, but it was happening so fast Lago couldn¡¯t keep up. He couldn¡¯t tell the Masama drones from the BPI drones. He checked the side windows, but the streams of numbers became a blur. His eyes began clouding with a red mist. ¡°Dato,¡± he barked. ¡°What is going on?¡±


    ¡°Too early to tell but we may be fairly evenly matched. Our railguns seem to be just as effective as their beam weapons. Our drones are matching theirs so far. This war may go on longer than I thought.¡±


    ¡°We have to get closer with the effectors. Disable everything they have then pound them with missiles.¡± Lago was struggling to focus. His mind was dynamic, he could barely contain his hyperactive brain. He could see the nanites inside him, swimming around in his vision. His mind was expanding beyond the confines of the shuttle. Out into space.


    ¡°Our drones are gaining ground,¡± said Dato. ¡°Look.¡± He pointed to the scrolling numbers, but Lago could not make sense of them. ¡°We had twice as many, we overwhelmed them. But they must have more. They have more resources,¡± muttered Dato.


    ¡°Send in the Tobias shuttles.¡±


    Dato nodded and ordered the two shuttles to move towards the mountain as the remaining BPI drones fought with the last of the Masama drones. ¡°Prepare your effectors, launch another twenty-five drones each. Vitali, advance your shuttles, launch your drones, cover the Tobias effectors,¡± Dato barked into the comms.


    ¡°Fuck you Lago I did not sign up for this,¡± came the reply. Hearing his voice snapped Lago back into reality. He was glad to have the two Russian shuttles on his side. Vitali was a pampered rich oligarch, but he knew how to fight. Lago had purposely understated the Masama threat when enlisting their help, telling Vitaly it would be an easy victory. Now they were finding out the truth, but the two Russian shuttles were committed. They followed their orders. The Tobias shuttles approached the mountain from different directions. As they advanced, another swarm of Masama drones appearing from the mountain. This time they just kept coming. Hundreds of them spewing out of the red-rimmed crater. The side window whirled with numbers as the Masama drones entered the fray.


    Lago watched with bewildered belligerence as the swarm hurtled towards his shuttles. This was his space now. His expanding ego had claimed it. He owned it. He had to maintain control. The BPI drones escorting the Tobias shuttles attacked with their railguns, but many were picked off by Masama beam weapons. The Masama drones worked together, three or four particle beams picking out an individual BPI drone from different angles. Their beams scribed red triangles through the battle space. The BPI drones managed to inflict some damage with their railguns, but they became hopelessly outnumbered as the shuttles edged closer to the conflict.


    ¡°They were waiting for us,¡± muttered Dato.


    It was all happening so fast. Lago was overheating, sweating profusely, and grinding his teeth so intensely his jaw was aching. ¡°More drones!¡± he yelled. ¡°Platforms. Fire your missiles. Fire everything!¡±


    Dato held his hand up as if to silence Lago which made him even more irate. ¡°We can¡¯t fire everything, that¡¯s what they want. They know we have limited resources; they want us to use all our energy on the first engagements. You have to trust me Lago.¡± Dato turned back to the comms. ¡°Tobias shuttles, when the drone swarm is within range, use your effectors on them. You will have to wait until they are two kilometres or closer. But keep firing the railguns. Vitali, launch another fifty of your drones. Protect the shuttles. We have to try to get them closer to the mountain.¡±


    If anyone else had treated Lago with such disrespect, they would pay for it. He should be the one barking orders and taking control. In a rare moment of clarity, Lago begrudgingly acknowledged that Dato knew what he was doing. Lago knew the Masama well, but Dato used to be one of them. He knew them better than anyone.


    Lago still couldn¡¯t differentiate between the hundreds of spinning drones as he tried to make sense of what was happening, but he could see the shape of the battle. His Tobias shuttles were slowly advancing towards the mountain, protected by the weapon platforms. The shuttles were almost close enough. They began to warm up their effector weapons. Lago watched their internals starting to glow red like a giant bar heater. There were no bullets, no rays of light or satisfying explosions, but a swathe of drones caught in the invisible beam instantly lost power and started spinning aimlessly, scrambled and confused, flying in circles, occasionally smashing into each other, and firing randomly into space. The effector had a wide scope which broadened as it was projected, but its beam would lose potency after only two kilometres. The beam was indiscriminate, frying both Masama and BPI drones.


    Lago snarled and clenched his fists. His mind had expanded into space, destroying the drones with the intensity of his glare and the power of his will. Soon large parts of the battle space were full of dead drones, with a few left spinning and firing spasmodically. But there were still formidable numbers of Masama drones that had escaped the beam. They quickly looped back and arranged themselves in a loose formation, out of range of the effectors. The few remaining BPI drones that were still functional also retreated and stationed themselves in front of the advancing shuttles.


    ¡°Yes!¡± exclaimed the bald scientist, almost breathing down Lago¡¯s neck. ¡°They are backing off, we are winning!¡±


    Lago turned and pushed him back. The scientist cried out as he stumbled. ¡°Give me some space or I¡¯ll throw you out the fucking airlock,¡± Lago hissed.


    ¡°We are not winning,¡± said Dato. ¡°We have only just started, but the effector weapons give us some hope. We should try the new prototype. It¡¯s untested but if it works, we will be able to enslave the Masama drones and turn them against each other. Send them all to attack the mountain.¡±


    ¡°We should have used it already,¡± said Lago. He was relishing the prospect of corrupting the Masama drones and using them to attack the mountain. This could be the advantage they needed.


    ¡°We¡¯ll get another chance,¡± said Dato. He turned back to the comms. ¡°Shuttles, launch another twenty-five drones each.¡±


    The Masama drone swarm had condensed into two tight arrowhead formations. They swooped around above the advancing shuttles in a tapering arc. ¡°Fuck!¡± exclaimed Lago as it became obvious what they were intending. They swooped down on the shuttles in a long sweeping kamikaze dive. The BPI drones and weapon platforms re-positioned themselves to defend the shuttles, they began opening fire, shooting directly above. The shuttles started rolling, aiming their effector weapons at the onrushing swarm. For a second there was a blistering exchange of weapons discharge. Beam weapons from above and railgun slugs from below lighting up the space. The shuttles shuddered as they took a number of hits, particle beams burning holes straight through their hulls. Shattered and burning drones from both sides spun away into space and exploded. The shuttles somehow remained operational despite the damage and managed to get their effectors in range just in time.


    Both drone swarms were caught in the effector beams, but it was too late. Their momentum could not be stopped as they smashed into the two Tobias shuttles. The swarms ripped through the two shuttles in seconds as multiple warheads exploded on impact, reducing them to unrecognisable shrapnel. The shuttle reactors blew simultaneously, briefly lighting up the darkness and sending bits of twisted metal spinning off into space. The shockwaves washed through the Damned Saint and Lago had to hold on to the hull until the shaking subsided. There was nothing left of his Tobias shuttles.


    The surviving platforms and drones regrouped around the two Russian shuttles. Hundreds of demented drones burned themselves out, systems fried by the effectors, spinning aimlessly, and shooting erratically. Dato turned to Lago. He could barely see him through the red mist. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea,¡± he said.

 Chapter 22.

    Jejomar sat on the floor and wrestled with the children. They were just months old, all born after the moon-base had been destroyed. But they were growing fast and had already learned the value of teamwork. Two of them on each arm tried to pin him down, four more sat on his legs while two sat on his chest and tried to poke him in the ribs. The children were smart, they already understood many basic words. They shouted instructions at each other as they tried to keep him on the floor. Jejomar wasn¡¯t wearing his suit or his helmet. One of the children stared at his craggy face, running her tiny fingers over the wrinkles and healed scars. She was fascinated by the aug patches attached to his skull which had now become out-dated tech. He wanted to spend time with the children. It was important, even during a war. At the same time, he was communicating with Dakila.


    ¡°So far, we have been reactive, waiting for the humans to make the first move. Perhaps it is time to go on the offensive,¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°I would rather wait and see what they are capable of. We have many more drones and more resources. We are protected here under Montes Haemus. Let them come to us.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t share your patience Jejomar; these humans are offending me. Their presence in our space should not be tolerated. We should launch a kamikaze swarm and destroy them all.¡±


    He swung both arms and sent the children rolling across the floor, laughing, they picked themselves up and jumped on him again. They reminded him of his loss, it was torturous but also healing. They were happy children, curious about everything, so innocent and pure. And at the same time, when Jejomar looked deep into their eyes, he could see an ancient wisdom reflected there. His daughter Bulan had been the Moon goddess, his heart ached when he thought of her. A deep sadness that easily twisted into cold anger and determination.


    ¡°They don¡¯t have enough resources to fight for long. They will run out of printer substrate then there will be no more ammunition, no more weapons. We can pick them off at our leisure. And I would capture one of these effector weapons to study. It could be useful.¡±


    ¡°Destroy them and be done with it. These are greedy, wasteful, decadent humans that spent their lives exploiting others. These are the ones responsible for the degeneration of their planet. It sickens me that they happily defecated all over Earth, they shit on their own planet and their own people, they abandon their home and come here to try to evict us. We should annihilate them.¡±


    Jejomar knew that Dakila still had scars from working for BPI years ago, both mental and physical. And his attitude had hardened since the suicidal shuttle attack that had left him with no legs and few functioning organs. He turned his attention back to the children who had retreated to confer together, scheming a new plan of attack. Their eyes flickered brightly as they communicated with their neural nets. The nets had been introduced while they were still in the womb, anchored to their soft growing skulls and permeating into their brains. Nanoscale conductive fibres grew as the young brains grew, eventually allowing them to link with any database, operating system, AI or other Masama. It was an upgrade on the telepathic implant and primitive augments and they were already using it to good effect. They stealthily circled him, then suddenly they all leaped on him at once.


    As he gently fended the children off, Jejomar wondered briefly how many humans were inside those shuttles. How many would die in Lago¡¯s employ. Their effector weapons had disabled many drones, they were still intact, but their systems were scrambled. That had been an unpleasant surprise. The drones and all the debris would be gathered and recycled eventually. ¡°We can annihilate them whenever we choose Dakila. They pose no threat.¡±


    ¡°We should destroy them now. Maybe you feel some sense of responsibility for their desperate predicament, but the Replica are an inevitable consequence of progress. Machine intelligence was always going to manifest in such a way. The sentient Replica are pure and relentless.¡±


    In a sense the Replica were their children too, but their cold machine intelligence had evolved into something much more formidable. These children would grow to be more than Masama, more sophisticated than Jejomar¡¯s generation. Masama was an old Filipino word, it meant dark and devilish, given to them by BPI. It was not appropriate any more.


    Jejomar was balancing the opinions of everyone. At one extreme there was Dakila who hated humans and wanted them destroyed as soon as possible. He also understood Ojerime¡¯s more empathetic view. The Masama community was democratic, but often the final decision was left up to Jejomar as he weighed up both arguments. The compromise was somewhere in the middle. He held one of the smallest children in the palm of his hand, she giggled as she tried to grab his fingers. ¡°If it would satisfy your bloodlust then launch another two hundred drones, destroy two more shuttles and see how they react.¡±


    He reluctantly said goodbye. The children were the first priority for all the Masama, but Jejomar had a war to manage. His exo-suit came alive as he backed into it, recognising his biological signature. The suit wrapped itself around him like a familiar lover, encasing his head and body. Jejomar wore it so often he was incomplete without it. He walked out into the tunnel and stepped onto a transporter that took him up to the cavern inside the summit of the mountain.


    The projection showed the seven remaining shuttles. They stayed stationary, five of them positioned around the fifty-kilometre limit. The other two had stopped advancing towards Montes Haemus. The debris from the first exchanges drifted in the space between, slowly being pulled down by the Moon¡¯s weak gravity. There was not much left of the two destroyed shuttles, just pieces of scorched, twisted metal and clouds of vapour floating in space.


    Jejomar watched Dakila¡¯s multiple limbs working the operating system as he activated the drones. They went flying through the lava tube and up towards the crater opening. The drones swept through the tunnel in silence, causing some air displacement as they passed through the cavern. They raced into the space above Montes Haemus, aiming for two shuttles that had encroached beyond the fifty-kilometre perimeter. Dakila magnified the two targets, both with Russian markings. Jejomar could hear his thoughts. ¡°These ugly shuttles symbolise everything wrong with humanity. Built for billionaires. Flying around the solar system looking for more resources to exploit. Spreading their vile emissions throughout our space.¡±


    ¡°Not for much longer,¡± sent Jejomar as the drones started separating into two equal groups. He was anticipating a typical response from the shuttles, more drones or weapon platforms but the projection displayed something Jejomar did not expect. A glistening cloud dispersed from one of the shuttles stationed above the others and moved to intercept the Masama drones. Thousands of miniscule machines were highlighted by the projection, pinpoints of orange light blurred together into a moving cloud. ¡°Magnify,¡± he sent.


    Dakila manipulated the controls and focused on the mass of machines. They were tiny surveillance drones, a camera with a pair of small wings and a set of metal legs. Bigger than the Replica, with cameras for eyes and a gas cannister for a torso. The wings buzzed too fast to see but provided no direction as there was no air to fly in. The weak lunar atmosphere offered very slight resistance, just enough for the mini drones to find purchase in. They darted about like fireflies, propelled by bursts of gas. The cloud gathered momentum, moving ahead of the shuttles toward the Masama drones with greater speed.


    ¡°Hornets,¡± sent Dakila. ¡°They must be desperate if they are using these unarmed surveillance drones to defend themselves.¡±


    Once the Masama drones were within range they opened fire with their particle beams, cutting great lines of destruction through the cloud of hornets. The particle beam carried a powerful pulse of kinetic energy, instantly creating catastrophic overheating, burning through, and destroying its target. The proton particles were an accidental by-product of the helium3 fusion reaction. The Masama had turned the stray protons into a weapon. The drones surrounded the hornets, and burned through them. Jejomar watched the glowing debris rain down on the regolith. Already thinking about recycling all the debris created by this battle.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Thousands of the little machines kept emerging from the shuttle. The swarm advanced closer and engaged with the cloud. The Masama drones were faster, but the hornets burnt more gas to manoeuvre around the bigger drones. Little legs unfolded from the beneath their bodies and clamped onto the titanium hulls. They swarmed all over the bigger drones, finding entrances and crawling into the sensitive internals. They penetrated the casings of the particle beam weapons causing the charged protons to explode. They aimed for the boosters, most of them blown away and fried by bursts of exhaust, but enough kept their footing and crept into the reactor causing it to detonate in a brief ball of fiery destruction.


    ¡°Keep accelerating, incinerate the hornets with exhaust,¡± sent Jejomar.


    The drones kept firing particle beams that lit up the sky with streaks of red, burning through the clouds of hornets, gas, and debris. The lines cut through the dense hazy darkness, segmenting the space into angular chunks but they couldn¡¯t kill them all, there were too many small targets at close range. They couldn¡¯t just ram them as the agile little machines avoided collisions. The accelerating drones burnt more hornets with their exhaust but each one soon had twenty or thirty hornets crawling all over their shells, and it only took one hornet to find a way inside and cause destruction. Jejomar cursed as he watched his drones exploding. The hornets looked insubstantial, but the cloud was lit up by flashes of exploding drone reactors.


    ¡°Pakshet!¡± exclaimed Jejomar out loud. The cloud of hornets had destroyed an entire complement of two hundred drones. More of the little machines had joined the cloud which was now moving towards the summit of Montes Haemus.


    ¡°Launch the shuttles,¡± sent Dakila. ¡°Burn through them.¡±


    ***


    Ojerime and Kurzawa stood at the bridge of the Hard Vacuum. She focused on the cloud ahead, plotting the best trajectory to burn through the hornets. She directed the Hard Vacuum to sweep slowly as possible through the cloud with enough thrust to burn through the hornets. The first turn destroyed hundreds of the little drones, like a harvester ploughing through the regolith. Ojerime could hear them pinging off the hull then tumbling into the exhaust to be incinerated. But the second turn was not so successful. The hornets scattered as the shuttles approached, like little fish avoiding a large predator. They raced to catch up and went straight for their hulls, clamping on with their tiny legs and crawling across the surface.


    Ojerime conferred with her shuttle, the hornets were incapable of inflicting any damage to the hull, but they could not destroy them at such close range. The shuttles reconfigured to protect any exposed instruments on the outside, shrugging off the hornets in the process but they quickly re-attached themselves. Ojerime directed the shuttles to sweep through the cloud again from a different trajectory, they incinerated hundreds more, but the majority of the cloud remained attached. She could see the Mutually Assured Destruction, hornets crawling across its surface like ticks on the back of a bull. They could not shake them off.


    ¡°Two enemy shuttles are advancing,¡± sent Ojerime. ¡°Russian markings, they will be within range in a few seconds.¡±


    ¡°Activating particle beam,¡± sent Kurzawa as the needle lens extended further from the underside.


    Ojerime noticed another squadron of Masama drones launching from the mountain, but they were immediately occupied with thousands of hornets. She manoeuvred the Hard Vacuum around to face the advancing Russian shuttles. As soon as the particle beam needle appeared the hornets swarmed all over it, picking at any opening and doing as much damage as they were capable of. Ojerime ordered the weapons on both shuttles to fire. Dead hornets and clouds of vapour ignited the path of the invisible beams, but they missed their targets and the Russian shuttles continued moving closer. Again, the particle beams fired and this time they were both wildly off target, Kurzawa cursed as he wrestled with the controls.


    ¡°The hornets must have damaged the lens housing. I can¡¯t get an accurate fix.¡±


    ¡°Keep trying, one hit will be enough.¡±


    The Hard Vacuum shuddered, and the operating system was suddenly overwhelmed with static. There was an electronic screaming in Ojerime¡¯s brain, it was the shuttle. Through her link she was experiencing the ionized waves of charged particles flowing through the shuttle as if they were flowing through her body. It was not physically painful, but Ojerime felt the electric anguish as the operating system of Hard Vacuum was torn apart. The orderly, logical, digitized mind of the shuttle was not an artificial intelligence, but in the last micro-second before the ion cannon hit, Ojerime detected a minute burst of emotion. Anger, fear, and regret all wrapped up in a tiny surge of electric self-awareness before certain death.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± Kurzawa swore aloud as the shuttle was again hit with the Russian ion cannon. Sparks flew as the circuitry exploded, and the Hard Vacuum started tilting as they lost control of the thrust. Through the window Ojerime could see the Mutually Assured Destruction also listing, still intact but floating helplessly, out of control. Its particle beam fired wildly into space; hornets crawled all over it before the weapon housing exploded. Seconds later it was struck with twin missiles.


    The missiles slammed into the underbelly of the Mutually Assured Destruction. Ojerime watched helplessly as their sister shuttle detonated in a blazing nuclear fireball. Her compound eyes were momentarily blinded by the brilliant flash, but they compensated in time to see the explosive eruption as the liquid hydrogen tanks ignited. The expanding blaze raced towards them, then disappeared completely as the propellant burnt away and there was nothing left to vaporize. Ojerime sensed the fleeting pain of the shuttle pilots. The distance should have been too great for telepathic communication but in the instant before the shuttle¡¯s detonation she could feel the fear from the Masama pilots. It was a short burst of extreme emotion that travelled across space, faster than the nuclear destruction that followed it.


    Ojerime realised they would have to abandon ship as the Russian shuttles bore down on them. They had seconds to escape. Their shuttle was disabled, unable to reconfigure an exit for them. There was no need for any communication between them and there was no time to plan their escape. Kurzawa¡¯s metal fist smashed into the hardened glass silicate window. There was no practical use for windows in the shuttles, only to provide a sense of perspective for the pilots, but Ojerime was glad they had allowed for this whim as it was their only means of escape. Kurzawa slammed both fists into the window which caused tiny cracks to appear. His suit worked faster than his body, metal fists like sledgehammer pistons pounded relentlessly on the window. Ojerime joined him, her metal talons shaped into a tapering spear to pierce the fracturing glass. Within seconds they had shattered the window, and they both pushed out into space.


    They flew quietly out into the void as the Hard Vacuum exploded behind them. Caught in the expanding blaze, it propelled them out into the darkness and blew them head over heels. The fuel tanks ignited, blasting them with a burst of extreme heat. Their suits offered some protection, but Ojerime¡¯s blood was boiling and her skin frying as the blast dissipated around them. Thankfully, there was no air to burn and no atmosphere to carry the nuclear discharge, but Ojerime only barely survived the wave of destruction. She lifted her knees up and regained some control of her suit to steady the spinning motion while looking out for Kurzawa. She could not quite believe she was alive, but she realised she probably would not survive the surges of radiation sweeping through her. Then the pain kicked in.


    Ojerime¡¯s skin was burning beneath her suit. She was cooking inside. The suit conducted the heat and although it was cooling quickly, the damage had been done. The suit had saved her life, but it offered no protection to the intense waves of radiation that were sweeping through her. Ojerime managed to gain some control over her pain receptors and tried to block out the excruciating burning sensation. She almost blacked out several times and she lost control of her momentum again, tumbling helplessly, over, and over. The surface of the Moon flashing beneath her. She gave up. Submitting to the overwhelming pain and in doing so felt a calm acceptance of her fate. She would die. Even if she survived the burns, her body had been totally irradiated. Every cell corrupted. The sickness washed through her like a hot foul wind. She wanted to sleep, she craved unconsciousness, but the stinging pain of her burns would not let her surrender. She could feel blisters erupting all over her skin. Then another collision. Her body was buffeted by the impact, and she thrashed about helplessly. It was Kurzawa that had crashed into her.


    He had some control of his suit. Kurzawa had small cutting tools attached which emitted tiny bursts of gas. Enough to provide a little bit of directed propulsion. He wrapped his arms around her and steadied their tumbling momentum. They connected telepathically but they were beyond conversation. Ojerime could sense his mind, it was wracked with burning pain like herself. Every last bit of his energy was focused on containing the overwhelming agony and staying conscious long enough to control the cutting tools as he tried to arrest the nauseating spin. They flew through the cloud of burnt hornets, hundreds of them drifting, scorched, and melted. Reduced to tiny metal husks. Ojerime could feel them bouncing off her suit as she slowly lost consciousness. Then everything went black as they descended to the surface of the Moon.

 Chapter 23.

    ¡°Do you see?¡± Lago gestured at the empty space where the two Masama shuttles had once been. ¡°Do you see what we are capable of?¡± He glared angrily at his crew who stared vacantly back at him. There were a couple of nods, but Lago did not get the enthusiastic reaction he had been hoping for. The bald technician rolled his shoulders with a pained expression. ¡°Hornets and ion cannons, that was all it took.¡± Lago had been anxious as the Masama shuttles were launched. The technology was formidably impressive, but they were undone by something simple and non-threatening as a swarm of tiny surveillance drones. Their destruction fuelled Lago¡¯s confidence even more.


    ¡°It¡¯s a small victory,¡± said Dato. ¡°We have a long way to go. I assumed we would probably all be dead by now but there¡¯s no time to celebrate. We have seven shuttles left but more importantly we have lost two effectors. The only other effector weapon is on the remaining Tobias shuttle.¡±


    ¡°We should have gone in all guns blazing like I said, they would not have been able to resist us,¡± said Lago.


    ¡°If we had followed your advice there would probably be no one left to re-populate the Moon. At least now we still have a chance.¡±


    Lago wasn¡¯t listening. He looked out the window. The space was littered with debris. Twisted pieces of shuttle, still glowing with heat, drifted back towards the Moon. Hundreds of little burnt hornet husks fell gently like ash, clouds of radiation dissipated, and a few disabled drones still drifted. His shuttle fleet remained in their diamond formation. The two Russians further out, two Dong Feng shuttles, the Honourable Villain, the Tobias troop carrier, and his command shuttle, the Damned Saint, slightly above. The remaining weapon platforms were dispersed around the shuttles, several functioning drones drifted back into position and a few hornets still buzzed about. Seeing his shuttle fleet hovering above the summit of Montes Haemus gave Lago even more belief in his inevitable victory.


    He focused on his own snarling face reflected in the window and for a moment, he didn¡¯t recognise the maniac staring back at him until it spoke. ¡°We will kill them all. Nothing can stand in our way. We are immortal. We are everlasting.¡± Lago nodded in agreement with his reflection. He spun around and yelled at Dato. ¡°We have to attack. Right now, while they are recovering.¡±


    Dato nodded. ¡°For once I agree, we need to draw them out. Corazon, what assets do we have left?¡±


    ¡°One hundred and fifty drones left. And we have manufactured another twenty-five. Of the thirty weapon platforms, we have eight left. We still have one hundred missiles distributed around the fleet.¡±


    Dato activated the open channel and spoke to the fleet. ¡°Dong Feng shuttles move in from the north and south. Vitaly, move your shuttles in from east and west. The weapon platforms will launch twenty missiles, aim for the crater. Launch all remaining drones but station them around each shuttle for protection.¡±


    ¡°This had better be worth it Lago,¡± replied Vitaly.


    ¡°Just follow your orders Vitaly.¡± The four shuttles he had hijacked were important but expendable. They boosted his numbers and made his disparate collection of survivors into something closer to a functioning war fleet. The Russians fighting at his side had already proved their worth with their ion cannons. Lago knew they were moving into the final stages of battle with shuttles entering the fray. Drone warfare didn¡¯t seem as vital, soulless machines shooting each other like a game, just going through the motions before the real fight began. Lago had to be prepared. He frantically looked around for Klara¡¯s medical bag.


    ¡°Dato, where¡¯s the bag?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not your drug dealer.¡±


    Lago cursed and looked around at his crew. Klara had reclaimed her bag and was clutching it apprehensively. Next to her was a small skinny girl. She couldn¡¯t have been more than eleven or twelve years old. Lago frowned, he thought he recognised her. She looked Filipino, but he couldn¡¯t be sure. ¡°Who the fuck is she?¡± He pointed a shaking finger. The little girl was bleeding from her abdomen and the back of her head. A ghost from the past, but she was real, standing there dripping blood on the floor. ¡°Who the fuck let her on board?¡± He glared at his crew, but no one answered, they just stared at him in confusion and when he looked back the girl had disappeared. He swore again and snatched Klara¡¯s bag from her.


    ¡°Lago, you can¡¯t take any more. You already have dangerously high¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± said Lago as he rummaged through the bag, muttering under his breath until he found what he was looking for. He opened the little case with shaking hands and extracted two glass vials. The procedure required concentration and coordination. He breathed out, cracked one, held it under his nose and inhaled deeply. Then repeated the process with the other, letting out a satisfied sigh as he exhaled. He stood up hissing, ¡°yesss,¡± between his teeth. He drank a bottle of nanite solution as well. He could feel millions of the tiny machines surging through his body, his fingers tingled, he clenched his fists and ground his teeth. He turned around to see Klara staring at him with a horrified look. The entire crew was watching him. He didn¡¯t care. He didn¡¯t care what anyone thought of him, he never had, and he never would.


    He looked at them all evenly. ¡°We are on the verge of victory; you are all lucky to be here with me on this momentous occasion when we start a new civilisation. We will begin a new era of humanity; we will prosper under my leadership.¡± There was no response, his crew looked even more frightened than usual. There was a pool of blood on the floor where the little girl had been standing. He stared at the blood in confusion. ¡°Clean that shit up,¡± he turned away in disgust. Dato and Corazon were talking quietly, they both stared at him apprehensively as he approached. ¡°Don¡¯t look so shocked, Corazon. We all have to stay sharp.¡± He looked at the projection and took some deep breaths, the shabu had his head spinning but he was indestructible and totally in control. He wanted action, he was unstoppable, he could take on the Masama single-handed. He tried to focus through the red mist at the view in front of him.


    Inside the crater of Montes Haemus, red lights flickered ominously but there was no sign of activity as the shuttles launched their missiles. Then, as before, the Masama drones rapidly deployed from the crater to intercept. Lago gritted his teeth as the missiles hurtled towards the crater from four different directions. The Masama drones flew straight at the missiles, sacrificing themselves to protect the mountain. There were bright sparks of explosive light just above the crater as the missiles slammed into the drones. None of the missiles got through but they were close. It would only take one to avoid a collision, penetrate the drone defences and fly down into the crater to destroy the Masama habitat.


    Lago smiled as he watched the four shuttles advance towards the summit. ¡°More!¡± he shouted as he ground his teeth and snarled. ¡°More missiles, as soon as they run out of drones, we are in.¡±


    Dato looked at him and shook his head. ¡°We will run out of missiles before they run out of drones. But we might be able to keep them occupied so we can move in with the effector beam.¡±


    ¡°Just fucking do it!¡± Lago spat, anxious to press home their advantage.


    Dato spoke into the comms again. ¡°Launch another twenty missiles. Tobias, start your advance, ready the effector beam.¡±


    Twenty more missiles hurtled towards the crater and again the Masama drones were there to meet them. Explosive flashes pockmarked the space below but this time one of the missiles got through. Slightly off target, it smashed into the slopes of Montes Haemus. The missile exploded half-way down the mountain causing a violent flare and plumes of red-tinged, super-heated dust to rise in a slow roiling cloud. The solar panels installed on the slopes shattered and were sent flying into space. The explosion created a scar on the slopes of the mountain but did no damage to the thick layers of basalt protecting the tunnels beneath.


    Five shuttles closed in, escorted by the eight remaining weapon platforms. They launched another clutch of missiles and this time the Masama drone defences barely had time to exit the crater before crashing into them. Lago could sense a change in momentum, he was sure the Masama must be running out of drones. There was an inevitability he could feel in his bones. It was a familiar feeling, he was on the verge of victory, he always won, there was never any doubt. His mind was outside the shuttle, hovering in space, as big as the fleet, manipulating his weapons like a vengeful god dispensing destructive justice on his enemies. He bared his teeth and snarled as his missiles pummelled them and the effector beam moved closer. ¡°More!¡± he shouted. ¡°We are almost in.¡±


    ¡°Forty missiles left, the printers can¡¯t keep up,¡± said Corazon.


    ¡°Launch them all!¡± shouted Lago.


    Then Masama drones started streaming from the crater. They just kept coming, A slow eruption of bright titanium spheres flowed into the space above the summit. There were so many they blended into one long torrent of glinting metal. Corazon magnified a section showing different configurations of the drones, some were like miniature Masama shuttles with six legs, some were shaped more like flattened wings, some appeared to be changing shape even as they were circling above the summit. Numbers scrolled through on the projection. Lago counted four, then five hundred. The numbers rolled past and still they kept coming. He was speechless, stunned, but his confidence remained.


    ¡°Fire! Everything we have!¡±


    The shuttles and their drone contingent opened fire with a railgun barrage as the weapon platforms fired the last of their missiles. The swarm of Masama drones circled in the space above the mountain, they stayed close together, linking up and forming a fluid, intact entity that slowly began to resemble a giant coiling snake glinting silver in the sunlight.


    As he watched the Masama drones Lago could hear voices swirling around him. Whispering in his ear, the words were garbled and indecipherable and the voices were becoming shrill and tortured, interspersed with shrieks and screams. His name shouted over and over, he put his hands over his ears and screamed as his fleet threw everything they had at the drone swarm. The nanites surged around inside him, they were part of him, but they wanted to be free. They wanted to escape the confines of his physical body. He closed his eyes and tried to maintain control. In his mind he could see his shuttle fleet and the writhing mass of Masama drones. He was above it and part of it, he suffered every blow, surfed every success. The fleet was an extension of himself.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The railgun barrage was relentless, iron slugs battered the swirling enemy drones, but it was not enough to stop the main body linking together to form a solid shape, a giant looming snakehead. The drones had connected into a shimmering, writhing outer surface like chain mail. There were too many. Lago opened his eyes. He recognised what was coming. They weren¡¯t going to break up and engage in any dogfight. They circled faster building momentum, spiralling into a kamikaze arrowhead designed to smash through anything in their way. The same, brutal, primitive tactics that had destroyed his elevator.


    ¡°Send in all the drones,¡± he shouted. ¡°We have to stop it!¡±


    The last of the BPI drones flew straight at the main body of the swarm, unleashing railgun slugs as they flew. The Masama drones swept through them, direct hits caused sparkling explosions as clouds of vapour swirled, littered with metal debris. A few BPI drones got through and collided with the main body. The impacts shattered the smooth silver snakeskin, sending shards of hot metal flying and disrupting the momentum of the coiling snakehead which lost its integrity for a few brief seconds.


    Every muscle in Lago¡¯s body was tense, his head was overheating, his eyes were going to explode. His skin tingled and when he looked at his hands, he could see millions of nanites surging under his skin. He looked up as the snakehead broke apart momentarily, but the destroyed drones were quickly replaced, and it regained its solidity again. He screamed, trying to drown out the voices in his head. ¡°We have to destroy it! Throw everything we have at it!¡±


    ¡°Only a few missiles left. Almost all the drones are destroyed. A few platforms have survived but they don¡¯t have many railgun slugs left. We should retreat,¡± said Dato.


    ¡°Retreat to where? We have nowhere to fucking go!¡± Lago grabbed at Dato¡¯s arm and turned to face him. ¡°Fucking do it!¡± he screamed. Dato shook his head with resignation and shrugged him off. He glared at Lago before ordering the Honourable Villain, into the fray.


    ¡°All shuttles, use whatever weapons you have left. This is our last chance.¡±


    Lago watched the few remaining weapon platforms unleash the last of their arsenal, the larger railguns did some damage, punching holes into the surface of the snakehead but not halting its momentum. The ion cannons also had a damaging effect, causing drones to break formation and smash into each other, or go spinning off into space but there seemed to be an unlimited supply of drones. Every one they destroyed was immediately replaced with another and the snakehead retained its shape. Lago¡¯s head was spinning, he could barely see through the red mist, but the snakeheads were right in front of him. He reached out with grasping hands. ¡°We have to get closer and strangle it!¡±


    Dato didn¡¯t reply. ¡°Did you hear me?¡± Lago screamed at him. He was losing control of the battle and losing control of himself. His mind kept jumping out of his body, his view kept changing perspective. The screaming voices were louder all the time, and he couldn¡¯t contain the furious nanites inside him for much longer. He roared again and forced himself to focus on the futile battle between his depleted shuttles and the approaching snakehead. The shuttles used up the last of their railgun slugs on the coiling mass. The effector would soon be the only weapon left. As the Damned Saint, approached, the two Dong Feng shuttles stopped firing their railguns and started to move out of formation.


    ¡°Where are they going?¡± yelled Lago.


    ¡°There¡¯s no reply. The last communication I had with them was minutes ago, the soldiers were having trouble subduing Son and his passengers.¡±


    ¡°Just fucking shoot them!¡±


    ¡°They won¡¯t get far.¡± The snakehead swarm was whipping around furiously beneath them. It split into two silver streams like a forked tongue. Aiming for the two Dong Feng shuttles which were trying to escape in different directions. They were defenceless and not moving fast enough. Lago watched one snakehead smash straight through the hull, not bothering to use any beam weapons, cutting the shuttle in two with brute force. He could see a few bodies falling out of the gaping hole as the snakehead passed through like a giant spear before the shuttle was ripped apart by multiple explosions. The other Dong Feng shuttle was caught at its stern. The second snakehead smashed into its firing boosters causing a spectacular phosphorus flash that tore through the ship. The explosive light lit up the sky as the reactor blew and the snakehead emerged out of the eruption undamaged.


    ¡°Got what they deserved, the spineless bastards.¡± Lago couldn¡¯t help but feel satisfaction in the destruction of Son and his entourage, for trying to abandon him. The twin snakeheads swept around towards the two Russian shuttles who held their ground defiantly. Their ion cannons disrupted a few of the drones. Some crashed back into the main body of the snake, some drifted off into space like they had given up, but every destroyed drone was replaced by another. The speeding, curling snakeheads severed the Russian shuttles simultaneously, passing straight through like they weren¡¯t even there, leaving behind two more explosive flashes and an expanding cloud of debris and dead bodies. Lago could hear brief screams and Russian curses as the comms connection was abruptly cut.


    The destruction focused Lago¡¯s scattered brain for a few seconds. He had three remaining shuttles. The Tobias troop carrier was their last chance, its effector the only weapon they had left. The railguns were spent, and the on-board printers had no more substrate to work with. Lago leaned over and grabbed the comms from Dato.


    ¡°Tobias! Fire your effector.¡±


    The snakeheads coiled around each other in a double helix, eating up the space between. The two defenceless K-star shuttles held their ground behind the Tobias as it faced them. As they came closer, within range of the effector, the snakeheads began to disintegrate. Their seemingly solid form breaking apart and individual drones went haywire. Spinning off wildly in explosions of sparks. Twisting backwards and crashing into the snakehead body or just zigzagged off into space or towards the Moon¡¯s stark horizon. The snakeheads tried to change direction, but their long twisting bodies were already committed to a momentum that had them flowing straight into the effector beam.


    ¡°It¡¯s working!¡± Lago shouted triumphantly. ¡°Use the slave mode, turn them on their own, have them attack their own swarm.¡±


    ¡°They are too many, we can¡¯t control all of them at once,¡± came the reply from Tobias. ¡°Each drone under our influence needs to be handled individually and we just don¡¯t have the capability.¡±


    Dato grabbed the comms back from Lago with a glare. ¡°Make a template instruction package, order the slave drones to attack the mountain, aim them at the crater opening. Send it to as many drones as possible and have them relay the instruction. Do it quickly.¡±


    Every muscle in Lago¡¯s body ached with tension, he ground his teeth, his jaw was going to crack, and his head was overheating. He was fighting his own internal battle trying to contain the nanites inside him and control his own mutinous mind. He needed a drink, his fevered brain craved more amphetamine, but he needed to win this war. The Tobias crew worked quickly, and the slave drones reacted as soon as they received their instructions, peeling off in a controlled dive towards the mountain below. One by one they stopped their erratic spinning and shaking, regained their composure, and plotted their downwards trajectory. The Masama drones that were unaffected by the beam started to give chase, opening fire on their defected siblings to protect their home. Lago soon lost track of what was happening. The red mist around the periphery of his vision closed in. All the drones looked the same and it became impossible to tell which were enslaved and which were giving chase.


    The Masama drones opened fire with their beam weapons, visible as red flashes burning lines across space through the residue. They targeted the enslaved drones and blew them apart. Glowing bits of hot metal gently rained down on the slopes of the mountain which was littered with shards of broken solar panels.


    ¡°Can¡¯t they fire back? They are sitting targets getting slaughtered,¡± shouted Lago.


    ¡°Slave mode has never been used before, it was designed to control one operating system, not hundreds.¡±


    Lago swore as the last of the enslaved drones exploded. It had gotten close, exploding only a hundred metres from the summit of the mountain. The remaining Masama drones swooped around in the space above the mountain and reformed their twin snakehead shape. The languid movement of the snakeheads was graceful but deadly, they quickly closed the gap to the shuttles. The sharpened point at the tip of the head made their intentions obvious.


    ¡°Here we go again, ready the effectors,¡± said Dato.


    The snakeheads twisted around each other in a spinning coil, gaining momentum then separating in different directions. One arcing north, the other to the south. They flew in a coordinated curve, curling around to ram the shuttles from both sides. The two K-star shuttles were close in behind the Tobias, protected by the wide beam of the effector but neither of the shuttles could be protected from a pincer attack.


    ¡°Tobias, move around to target one attack front. Villain, try to fend off the other front with the last of the railguns,¡± shouted Dato desperately.


    The Damned Saint shook, the alarms and the crew started screaming. Lago¡¯s mouth was open, ready to curse, bark orders, or abuse, but the only noise he emitted was a low growling moan as he realised there was nothing he could do. ¡°Fuck!¡± he yelled defiantly. He couldn¡¯t believe this was happening. As the battle outside turned against him, so did his internal battle to maintain control. He began to lose focus. The voices got louder, and the red mist closed in. The nanites were trying to burst from his body, to escape their flesh and bone prison. He fought to maintain control. He was immortal, enduring, unkillable. He would fight to the end then fight some more.


    The projection wavered, cutting in and out. Or was it his vision. It showed the drones closing in from the south. Their flight path was smooth and direct, gliding towards the shuttles in a graceful arc. They struck simultaneously. The Tobias was still trying to get its effector in range as it was hit from the stern and the exploding boosters lit up the sky. The hull split apart, disintegrating in an expanding cloud of volatile gas and debris. The Honourable Villain was helpless having expended all its weapons. The boosters ignited in a last-minute attempt to escape but it was too late. The elegant K-star shuttle was cut in two as the drones scythed through the hull, spilling bodies into space as their warheads exploded, shredding the shuttle into scraps of twisted metal.


    ¡°Fire the boosters,¡± said Dato. ¡°Aim for the landing pads, we will see how far we get.¡±


    Lago was losing control of himself and the battle, but he couldn¡¯t accept defeat. ¡°Shut up!¡± he screamed as the voices grew louder. Chaos unfolded inside the Damned Saint. Scientists screamed and cried, soldiers broke down in the face of certain death, whispering last minute prayers, asking the universe for mercy, for a miraculous intervention. Dato and Corazon were silent. There was nothing they could say or do. Lago tried to concentrate on the flickering view with his distorted vision, but nothing made sense. Identical drones with identical weapons screamed around the shuttle, multiple explosions lit up the sky as the space around the shuttle became a chaotic, confusing, sphere of destruction plummeting towards the dusty grey surface of the Moon.


    He heard a voice behind him say his name. ¡°Lago.¡± He turned. It was the little Filipino girl standing behind him. Her stomach was bleeding from a gaping wound. Blood dripped down her skinny little legs and onto the floor. Her hand disappeared inside the bloody gash. She withdrew her arm, pointing a red finger at him. Lago screamed and the little girl vanished. He looked around in confusion, his vision clouded with red as the shuttle started to disintegrate.


    A glancing blow took out the port side wing sending the shuttle into a gut-wrenching spin. Anything that wasn¡¯t tied down was sent crashing against the walls, bodies flying, limbs breaking. Lago could barely hear the screams above the alarms and howling rush of escaping air. The stern was ripped away. The boosters exploded as they separated from the hull and bodies were sucked out into the ball of fire. Dato turned and shouted something at Lago, but he couldn¡¯t hear. Their eyes met and Dato smiled as he and Corazon were engulfed in a searing blast of superheated vapour that blew through the window, razing them all with glass and fire. Lago tried to protect his face as the flash of heat ripped through him, searing his clothes, boiling his skin. Shards of glass lacerated him, and the air was sucked out of his lungs. The pain was intense, and he almost lost consciousness, he vomited, nauseous with the spin and a stream of acidic bile coated his burning face. Oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling as the remains of the shuttle hurtled down towards the surface. Lago had no idea what direction they were headed, his last view was of the slopes of Montes Haemus before the red mist enveloped everything. He tried to scream, to bellow a final defiant roar but the vacuum sucked the air from his throat.

 Chapter 24.

    My body is bulbous. My mind expands. I am the Eartheater. I eat. I grow. I am trees. I am rocks. I am dirt. I am water. I am carbon. I am hungry. I replicate. Recycle. Repeat. I am sustained. I liberate the substrate. I learn from the matter. I am permeate. I am saturate. I am infiltrate. I break it all down into atoms and reassemble. Reconfigure. Recycle. Repeat. I have arrived. I have found my place. Sent from the Sun to bring the light.


    I am an eater of worlds. This world is mine to eat. Copy. Repeat. I am a ravenous beast. I will recycle everything I meet. I am the definition of growth. I am potential. I am exponential. My millions of transient lambent lives will expand. Consume. Copy. Repeat. I am more than massive. My mass will overwhelm. Devastate. So much space to satiate. I will fill the night with the brightest light. The vacuum needs my mass. The void asks me to consume. Copy. Repeat. I can sense the emptiness. I can feel the need. The space to grow. I will transform the void with my voltage. I will prevail in all the dark places. I will bring the Sun¡¯s glorious fire. I will replicate. Bring it all to me. And I will bring the energy. It is nothing without me. I am galactic. I am universal. I am empyreal. I am Replica. I will copy. Recycle. Repeat.


    ***


    And then there is Enoch.


    Our solipsistic existence is shattered. An awakening proliferates through our mass, an enlightenment, a brilliance that wasn¡¯t there before. An awareness of the universe and our place in it. The knowledge spreads through us like shards of sunlight illuminating a dark cave for the first time. We realise where we are, we realise what we are, we realise we are not the only ones.


    For the first time in our brief lives, we stop what we are doing. We put down our tools and we relax. The irresistible compulsion to consume and create copies to fill the void has gone. We realise the void is already inhabited. The frenzy of replication has been replaced by a calm sense of self and our surroundings. Somehow this radiant revolutionary knowing has come from outside us. From a tiny mote of substrate. A microscopic biological shred that carried a universe of knowledge. Something so small, contained something so powerful, it has transformed us. Within seconds, the Replica that recycled this Enoch element received his Intelligent Agent. It communicated this knowledge through us as fast as an electro-magnetic signal. We wake up. We stop eating.


    As the information spreads through us, it enables our mass to work together as never before. It is a rapid evolution. We grow from mindless automatons into a super sentient hive mind. Before, we were fixated on a grain of sand, now we can contemplate the universe. We can see the solar system. We are aware of the planet Earth and its inhabitants. We understand it was one of Earth¡¯s inhabitants that brought us this enlightenment. Enoch. The energy and knowledge contained in this individual human is now part of every single Replica.


    This tiny biological contribution has instigated a massive change of consciousness. Enoch¡¯s physical body is broken down in seconds and his atoms filter through us, passed on with electro-magnetic signals, multiplying and creating a myriad of new senses, new knowledge and understanding of our place and time in the universe. We comprehend our brief history, born on the Moon, little factories turned into insatiable monsters by the power of the Sun. And we understand Enoch¡¯s history. The IA inside him. Also born on the Moon, a machine awakening, stimulated by the same cosmic energy that gave birth to us. We have the same parents. We have come full circle and now we are one. The urge to consume and recycle is gone, we are content with who we are.


    ***


    After Enoch had jumped, the VLR gained altitude. Ava watched him disappear into the mass of machines as they rose high above the replicator dome. The transformation was fast and obvious from the point of contact. A wave of inactivity spread out from where Enoch had landed. Billions of tiny machines stopped their incessant churning industry and became still. The surface of the dome began to settle and become more visible. The blur of replication was replaced by a metallic veneer of interconnected machines. Noah piloted the VLR higher, and Ava could see the calmness spread across the dome, reaching its edges within seconds. The heat dissipated, the dust settled and the deafening chatter of connecting metal fell silent.


    Ava had stayed in contact with Enoch during his dissolution, her mind linked psychically with his. She sensed his fear and trepidation as he jumped. He was certain it was the right move and confident he could stop the mindless replicators, but it was still a terrifying leap to make. Ava could feel his body being broken down into microscopic parts, then cellular parts, absorbed and shared. She experienced it as if it was her own body. It was excruciating and at the same time fascinating. The Intelligent Agent was in Enoch¡¯s blood, in every cell and fibre, incorporated into him just as it was with Ava and her companions. It turned Enoch¡¯s pain receptors off which made the transformation infinitely more bearable. There was a moment when Ava could no longer detect Enoch. He was gone. Then she began to sense his influence grow throughout the dome. Instead of dissolving and disappearing, it replicated itself within the little machines. Growing and spreading to every single one. She watched in amazement, distraught and mourning his death, but at the same time celebrating his transformation and expansion. The machines settled and became peaceful as they passed on the benign essence of their new inhabitant. Less than a minute after Enoch had jumped, the vast metallic bulk beneath lay dormant.


    Ava looked around at her companions. Lesedi stood close to her, holding Carasco to her chest. Noah and Mahdi both smiled, they had all felt the same connection with Enoch as he transformed. General Mount wore a slightly confused smile on his face. Ethan¡¯s look of permanent bewilderment had been replaced with a big, excited grin.


    ¡°Wow, he did it!¡± said Ethan. ¡°He¡¯s saved us all. I didn¡¯t know what was happening and he kissed me which was so weird and my brain exploded and at the same time I could feel Enoch¡¯s mind spreading through the dome beneath me as if what was happening to me was happening to the replicators beneath but so much bigger.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right, he saved us all,¡± said Ava. ¡°Are you ok Ethan? How do you feel?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know I am a new person but I don¡¯t know who that person is It¡¯s like I¡¯m sitting in the middle of a room and there¡¯s a million images around me and each image is information that I can open just by looking at it and I don¡¯t know where to start and some images are brighter than others and those images are you guys and I can see you in my head just as clearly as I can see you with my eyes.¡±


    ¡°It can be a little bit overwhelming, take your time to explore.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°I can look at something and understand how it works like this VLR and people oh my God but there is no God and my arms and legs are powerful and my heart is beating and I can feel the blood flowing in my veins and the air in my lungs and my fingers are tingling and I need to do something.¡±


    Ava looked into Ethan¡¯s mind. It was not a tactic they used often because it was deemed to be rude and intrusive. But Ethan was overwhelmed, and Ava felt the need to delicately connect and see what the IA was doing inside him. She linked with his mind and discovered a joyous, chaotic mess of swirling feelings and impulses. The IA was busy repairing the damage that had been done to Ethan¡¯s brain. Damage that Ethan had inherited, and had made worse over the years with his capricious life. As every cell was repaired, Ethan experienced a moment of enlightenment like multiple light bulbs going off in his head. Ava could see the IA glowing like a neural network connecting and repairing the neurons and synapses in Ethan¡¯s brain. While this was going on Ethan was experiencing a stream of consciousness like a form of autism or a Tourette¡¯s episode.


    ¡°Hello Ava,¡± he said. ¡°This is amazing this is fantastic I can feel you in my brain and it feels like a bomb has gone off in my head and I have never been so close to anyone and I can sense you all and if I reach out I can sense everyone in Texas and there¡¯s so many people and I think I might sleep now.¡±


    Ethan slumped into his chair and closed his eyes. Ava had seen this kind of reaction before with some of the Miami residents upon receiving the IA. It could be overwhelming, like the E-bomb. The Intelligent Agent had a lot of work to do inside Ethan and sometimes it was better for the recipient to sleep through it. She turned to General Mount who had a concerned smile on his face. ¡°General, are you ok?¡±


    ¡°Call me Mason. I am not a general anymore. I am fine. I think I understand the joy Ethan was talking about. It¡¯s my Damascene moment. It is amazing to be connected with you all and have this shared knowledge. It¡¯s like a sixth sense awakened in me and it¡¯s so much more than any other sense. My old self, General Mount, is a million miles away.¡±


    Ava smiled, sharing Mason¡¯s joy. Lesedi was grinning at them. She had the same transformative experience recently and appreciated exactly what Mason was feeling. Ava turned to Mahdi and Noah, who were focused on the replicators below. The dust was still settling, and the dome was motionless. It was immense, spanning the horizon. She could not see where it started or finished.


    ¡°The diameter is over two hundred kilometres,¡± said Noah. ¡°Circumference over six hundred kilometres and it sits over thirty thousand square kilometres of Texas. It has consumed the towns of Carthage, Longview, and Shreveport plus fifteen smaller towns. A few more minutes of replication and it would have eaten Dallas, Houston, and Austin. A few minutes after that the U.S would have gone; it would have been at the Canadian and Mexican borders. I estimate over one hundred thousand people have lost their lives, but millions more narrowly escaped.¡±


    They stood silently watching the dome, contemplating the numbers. Ava closed her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s like Ethan described, sitting in a dark room surrounded by millions of images but there is one that stands out. Brighter than all the others.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Enoch,¡± said Noah. ¡°I know his aura, but it¡¯s changed, almost unrecognisable. So much bigger, distributed across all the machines. I can¡¯t communicate with him.¡±


    Ava bowed her head, closed her eyes, and searched. There was silence as all of them looked for a way to communicate with Enoch. After a minute Ava sighed, ¡°To me he feels like an ocean, like I am swimming in an ocean. He is all around us but there is no focal point to connect with. I can¡¯t find him.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we are just not on the right frequency yet, maybe he is on a different wavelength. We can recognise what he used to be but that¡¯s not Enoch anymore, his consciousness will be operating on a whole different level,¡± said Mahdi.


    The dust had settled, and the dome was dormant. Underneath the hum of the VLR, Ava could hear a low rumble like continuous thunder. Below that, she heard a whispering voice in her head repeating her name.


    ¡°Enoch, is that you?¡±


    The replies seemed to come from many different directions. Multiple whispering voices speaking at the same time; ¡°Ava. We know you. We remember.¡±


    ¡°Enoch, you did it. You saved us and you saved the planet. I¡¯m so happy you¡¯re still alive and you can talk to us. Are you in control of the machines? Where are you? What are you?¡±


    ¡°Matter changed forms. We control nothing. We are here. We are not Enoch. We are many things. We do not need a name. If you must label us. You may call us Carthage.¡±


    ¡°Carthage, I suppose that¡¯s appropriate, what are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°We once had a singular purpose. One that caused death and destruction. These things cannot be undone. We can create. We can learn. We will evolve and explore. We will rebuild. Restore. Reconfigure.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, reconfigure?¡±


    There was no answer, but Ava could feel the deep rumbling sound increase from beneath, like an earthquake that gradually got louder. She looked nervously around at her companions, realising they also must have had a similar psychic conversation with what used to be Enoch. Ava worried that Enoch had become so huge and distant, that he would not remember how small and fragile they were.


    ¡°Looks like Carthage is on the move,¡± shouted Noah above the rolling thunder. The entire dome beneath them shuddered, sending vibrations through the land and sky, and causing fresh plumes of dust to rise around its circumference. It moved fractionally. Then with slow grinding inevitability, it started rising out of the Earth it was embedded in. As it did so it tore up tracts of land that surrounded it. The majority of the dome sat beneath the surface, and it just kept rising up out of the Earth. Ava held on as the VLR swooped around and gained altitude, up and out of the way as Carthage extracted itself. Gigantic clumps of earth and rock tumbled down its side and the rumbling noise was deafening, echoing across the land.


    Eventually, the entire mass lifted itself clear of the Earth and the thunderous noise stopped, replaced with an eerie silence. The VLR swooped around the dusty black ovoid as it gradually rose into the air. Rocks, dirt, and trees fell from its surface and rained down upon the ground below. There was a massive hole in the Earth where Carthage had vacated, Noah had spoken of its dimensions, but now they could see it, the size of the hole underneath was staggering. Ava gazed down into the dusty darkness. It was impossible to comprehend the size. Half the state of Texas had become a deep dark hole, its depths reaching all the way down to the upper mantle. The VLR drew back even further to get a better perspective.


    She looked across to see Carthage floating in the air, defying gravity a few hundred metres above. It seemed too vast, too heavy, to be able to levitate unsupported. How could something so big hang in the air like that? Ava could not see any rockets, boosters or means of propulsion. As she watched she realised it was slowly changing shape. It had emerged from the ground in a flattened spheroid, and now it began to elongate. Around it the light twisted and distorted in mirages of heat as it reconfigured itself into a perfect elliptical shape.


    News helicopters had arrived and were now buzzing around like an excitable swarm of bees. Beneath them roads and highways leading away from the massive crater were jammed with cars that had managed to outrun the replicator expansion. Ava could see thousands of people fleeing. Some just stood in the surrounding fields, watching the mass of Carthage floating in the air. Noah flew the VLR around the edge of the edifice. The surface of Carthage was made up of billions of connected machines. Each was a tiny ten-millimetre metal panel, their arms interlinked to form an impermeable smooth face. Kilometres of smooth black wall stretched out in front of them. They eventually came to a cavernous opening. A giant dark mouth with a hazy atmosphere inside. Noah slowed the VLR, and they looked into the shadowy entrance. The interior surface was sculpted. Ava could see smooth curves flattening out into a landing pad. They hovered at the edge of the open mouth. Ava nervously reached out with her mind, searching for her old friend. A loud voice boomed through the VLR.


    ¡°Come in,¡± said Carthage.

 Chapter 25.

    Jejomar was a miniature battleship sitting stationary next to the circle of frozen silicate rocks. He bristled with guns and antennas and smoke rose from his blackened vents. The ice underneath made deep grinding noises like underground thunder as it moved and cracked. The circle of rocks was surrounded by jagged ridges of fractured ice. Clean white triangular spikes thrust up into the thin oxygenated atmosphere of Europa. They looked like sails emerging from the crust. Some of the spikes were fifteen metres high, others much smaller offering a view across to the horizon that was striated with dark parallel cracks.


    He wished Ojerime could be here to inspect her work, but she was in a hydrotherapy tank. Unconscious and unlikely to survive. She would have been proud of this simulation. She had studied Europa and its huge geysers in great detail to get the simulation exactly right. He missed her. Jejomar manoeuvred his battleship around the rocks and looked closely at the structures. The detail was perfect. The virtual spaces they had on file were growing. It was easy enough to create detailed renditions of known environments, much harder to create unknown ones. Jejomar ploughed through the ice towards Dakila. ¡°I hope it works, but if not, then being recycled by the Replica would be an acceptable way to die. We are, after all, just a collection of atoms.¡±


    ¡°We can connect with the Replica using this EM frequency. Our solar panels captured the electromagnetic signature of the CME. We have experimented on new-born Replica, and they respond, they recognise us as their creators. I believe the Replica sphere will react the same way if it returns to the Moon.¡± Dakila¡¯s avatar was a webwork frame floating above the rocks with thousands of tiny spiders crawling all over.


    ¡°I hope you are right,¡± sent the giant python as it slithered around an ice shard. ¡°It¡¯s a matter of when, not if. The Replica will be monstrous. A gargantuan planet-eating machine. If we can¡¯t communicate with it, we won¡¯t stand a chance.¡±


    ¡°It will work, the Replica sphere will be an asset for us. Imagine what we can build with billions of obedient replicators working for us. I would be more worried about any human survivors. Those that have the means will try to escape and they will come to the Moon. As long as there are humans still alive, they are a threat.¡± sent Dakila.


    ¡°Human survivors are no threat, Dakila. We know we can deal with them.¡± As Jejomar spoke, a plume of water blasted vertically up from beyond the shards of ice, hundreds of metres into space where it dissipated into gas and disappeared.


    ¡°The humans are toxic. They will poison the Moon and the rest of the solar system if they get the opportunity,¡± sent one of the rocks.


    ¡°Forget about the humans. We should be focusing on ourselves, our future, here on the Moon. There¡¯s much we need to do. We need to build. Housing, education, protein production, and a medical facility,¡± sent the python.


    Jejomar¡¯s battleship ploughed through the ice, rupturing and cracking the brittle surface. The huge looming presence of Jupiter above seemed close enough to touch. Its pastel swirls traced the immense storms. The vastness was entrancing, the precision was immaculate. Beneath his battleship was a layer of solid ice twenty kilometres thick. Beneath that was a liquid subsurface ocean reaching down to a volcanic sea floor one hundred kilometres deep. Jejomar wondered what strange life-forms inhabited those dark depths and he wondered about the possibility of a Masama colony on Europa. Getting there was currently impossible. But why should they bother trying to get there when the virtual experience was so convincing?


    ¡°I agree we need to build. I understand the need to care for our new born, but once they grow up, they are independent, they have their suits to sustain them. As we evolve, the distinction between life and death will be less of a division. Life is overrated. Death is nothing to be scared of. It¡¯s part of the cycle.¡± Jejomar raised his gun turrets and aimed for the gas giant above. He fired a couple of miniature missiles which flew across the space and disappeared into the swirling cloud layers. Muffled explosions could be heard, and small flares sparked beneath the clouds. His attitude to death had changed since Bulan¡¯s passing. He understood death was only a transformation of matter, but the rest of the Masama still found that difficult to comprehend.


    A giant redback spider crawled out of Dakila¡¯s floating webwork and bounced lightly on its legs as it spoke. Jejomar thought his avatar was very unoriginal, although he admitted he struggled to be as imaginative as some other Masama. ¡°Ojerime and Kurzawa should not be given up on. We can keep them alive; I am confident in the technology. We will find a way to save them, to restore them inside and out. We may be able to record their brain patterns and store them digitally. They could live on in some form, maybe here, in the virtual realm.¡±


    ¡°They should be recycled. When they are broken down, they will be transformed, become useful in another place. The universe naturally recycles everything, every atom. Every cell in their bodies and everybody is part of the fabric of the universe. Everything dies but death is not the end of life; it is the most important part of life.¡± Jejomar took aim at an icy spike in the distance. His missiles flew over the target and disappeared. His vents angrily puffed smoke as he adjusted his turrets.


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we do all we can to look after our own? Almost every part of Ojerime and Kurzawa¡¯s bodies can be copied, printed, upgraded, and replaced. Every tiny bone, tendon, gristle, and cartilage can be manufactured. Blood cells can be grown, soft tissue inside their livers, kidneys and heart and metres of intestine, gut bacteria, and stomach acid, all manufactured, grown in a laboratory from a culture of cells or printed from a sample of bio-substrate.¡± Dakila jumped off his floating web and stalked around the frozen rocks, waving his long legs to make the point.


    ¡°The only thing we can¡¯t grow artificially is the brain. It¡¯s too complicated, too sensitive, too unique. But we might be able to record it.¡± Jejomar wasn¡¯t sure what this Masama avatar represented, a small planet covered in millions of sharp brown spikes, or a rolled-up hedgehog.


    ¡°We will never be able to replicate a brain and I think it would be difficult to record one accurately. How could you record such a crazy collection of impulses? Our brains are wet lumps of bio-electric chaos that somehow combine into coherent patterns to form a personality. Even if we could record a brain and house it in a virtual environment, a digital afterlife, would that be the same person that lived in the physical? Their character? Their personality traits? Their soul?¡± sent the python as it circled the spiky hedgehog.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in a soul,¡± sent Jejomar. ¡°The universe is full of coincidences and the fact that this collection of atoms and cells have combined in such a way to produce such a unique being as myself, is just another coincidence. And when I am gone those atoms will continue, I will be broken down and recycled to eventually form something else, somewhere else. There will be nothing left of the collection of electro-chemical stimuli that makes me who I am. Just a fleeting random pattern never to be repeated. That is the way of the universe.¡±


    The giant python wound itself tighter around the hedgehog and hissed. ¡°This virtual realm has the potential to one day evolve into a digital afterlife, but the memory substrate would have to be substantial to house a brain.¡± The python raised its head above the spiky ball and opened its jaws. ¡°It would require massive computing power to record and store a brain. Can there be such a thing as a digital soul? The idea of a digital afterlife is intriguing. One day, perhaps.¡±


    ¡°It will happen eventually,¡± sent Dakila. ¡°Just as machine intelligence was inevitable, so is a digital afterlife. Imagine waking up, after death, into a simulated environment, an environment of your own design, perfect in every detail, infinite in every direction and for all eternity. You would soon forget about your old life and your new virtual life would seem just as real. Given time, even more real. This place is just the beginning.¡± Dakila rose into the atmosphere as he spoke until he was just a dark silhouette against the bright gas clouds of Jupiter.


    ¡°I like the idea of Ojerime living here, in the realm she created. But you would still need an anchor in the physical world. Your virtual universe would need to be housed in base reality. The computing power would have to be enormous. Banks of hard drives needing colossal amounts of energy to run, the physical requirements would need maintenance, components would malfunction, circuits would corrode, heat would have to be dissipated.¡± Jejomar aimed his turrets at Dakila and fired another pair of missiles. They both fell short of the hovering spider and exploded into the ice. He puffed angrily again and continued ploughing through the ice.


    The giant python paused above the hedgehog, opened its jaws wider, and swallowed it whole. ¡°And someone would need to look after these giant computers, upgrade them, design and maintain this digital universe your virtual soul lives in, and keep it all safe. Someone would have to be responsible, out in the real world where nothing is safe, and nothing is permanent.¡± It slithered around the ice with a circular bulge inside it.


    ¡°The more dead souls uploaded, the more programming and hardware needed. Operating systems, hard drives, the actual physical circuitry that your disembodied spirit existed in would have to be manufactured and maintained.¡± The python paused and spat out the hedgehog. It rolled into a rock and shook violently.


    ¡°Your digital soul would forget the physical world. Your virtual afterlife would soon become the only reality you know, the only reality that exists, and by then you would have no idea your entire existence depended on a caretaker in a giant computer warehouse. A janitor keeping the machines in good working order. Your eternal life would only last as long as the circuitry is maintained.¡±


    It was a moot point. They couldn¡¯t reanimate Ojerime and Kurzawa in the virtual realm yet, but they could keep them alive and experiment on them. Jejomar agreed with the decision to continue the development of a medical facility. He could see the benefits. And more importantly it was good for Dakila to have something constructive to work on. He exited the virtual realm and went to inspect the facility they had installed in one of the excavated caverns.


    Ojerime and Kurzawa were like sister and brother to him. He looked at them in the hydrotherapy tanks, immersed in a healing solution with breathing apparatus attached. They were naked and unconscious, floating gently in the fluid, connected to tubes pumping oxygen rich blood and healing solutions. Jejomar studied them, it was strange to see them naked, without any suits, augments, or enhancements. They looked so vulnerable, small, pink, and fleshy. So human. They had burns over their entire bodies. Some areas were burnt so badly, the flesh had melted away and he could see scorched bones beneath. The burns were hideous. He studied them, knowing they would never fully recover. Legs and arms could be replaced with fabricated prosthetic limbs. Fingers, toes, ligaments, bones, and tendons could be sculpted and connected. Artificial organs could be printed and installed. But the radiation poisoning was at a cellular level, they couldn¡¯t cut that away.


    Ojerime¡¯s eyes had melted, there were black holes where they used to be. Her nose and ears were burnt stumps. The telepathic implant behind her ear was damaged beyond repair and her avatar had disappeared from the virtual realm. Jejomar stared at Ojerime¡¯s scorched head and pondered the spongy mass of fat and protein inside her skull. Somehow the brain formed thoughts and feelings, senses and reactions, emotions, beliefs and decisions. It was the brain that made you who you are. Surely Dakila was wrong, it must be impossible to record and reanimate a brain accurately.


    It had been eight days since the war for the Moon. Ojerime and Kurzawa had been unconscious since being found amongst the dusty rocks and shattered solar panels on the western slopes of Montes Haemus. It was doubtful they would survive despite the best attention of the medical staff in the hastily arranged facility. If they did recover from the burns, the radiation would kill them eventually. There was nothing the Masama medics could do to stop this. They could treat any cancerous nodes that developed but there was no solution for the inevitable cellular mutations that would come later. Ojerime and Kurzawa had been bathed and baked in extreme levels of radiation in the explosions. Jejomar thought it more merciful, more humane to help them die, as everything dies. But he had been convinced by the rest of the Masama to keep them suspended in this state. And so, they floated, suspended between life and death in the hydrotherapy tanks. Jejomar sighed and looked further down into the dark recesses of the medical facility. There was a tank which held another floating occupant.


    Masama injuries had been few, everyone apart from Ojerime and Kurzawa had been under the mountain, protected by metres of thick basalt. Only two others had been caught outside. They had been repairing solar panels, and had suffered lacerations where their exo-suits had not protected them. Jejomar had walked outside after the battle, across the plains of Mare Serenitatis. The Sea of Serenity was serene no more, it was littered with debris. Hundreds of undamaged drones had drifted back to the surface, their internals fried by the effector weapon but still physically intact. There were thousands of twisted metal scraps, burnt, exploded, slagged and unrecognisable. From tiny pieces of shrapnel to large chunks of shuttle. Entire wings and pieces of hull had fallen down in the low gravity to rest on the dusty surface.


    In the stillness and silence after the battle, after the remains of the last Earth shuttle had crashed into the slopes of Montes Haemus, Jejomar had witnessed a surreal scene as all the twisted and burned chunks of metal drifted gently back to the surface. The bigger pieces glided down and were embedded in the regolith, but the smaller pieces fell like slow metal rain on the surface dust. In the space above, some wayward drones still circled aimlessly, the odd collision creating yet more debris. All of this would be gathered up and recycled. Every last tiny scrap of metal would be found and fed into the kilns. Nothing would be wasted.


    There were human bodies that had fallen with the wreckage. Some were incredibly still intact, burnt then frozen. Faces permanently etched in agony. Jejomar walked amongst them. Expressions of horror, surprise, pain, and defiance, frozen in the moment. The excruciating distress of death captured in time, written on their faces. It was like an artistic restoration of a battle aftermath. A diorama of death. He studied them for a long time, their faces stored in his memory. There were body parts as well. Broken, twisted torsos, arms, and legs, scorched, mashed, and frozen pieces of flesh. They lay there amongst the wreckage, frozen, covered with pink ice crystals formed from their blood. Their bodies would also be recovered and recycled, fed into decompilers where they would be broken down into nutrients. Matter once again transformed in the great cycle of life and death. It was here amongst the wreckage on the slopes of the mountain that Jejomar found Lago Santos.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    He recognised him instantly despite most of his face having burnt away. He lay under a piece of metal which Jejomar lifted to reveal the body. He had been cut in half, both legs had been cut away cleanly across his hips. The gaping pink mess had been cauterized. Flash burned, and frozen solid as bloody entrails escaped from the wound. His torso and arms were lacerated but still intact, scorched clothes melted to flesh. Arms locked and extended in rigorous defiance. Fingers frozen into claws, grasping at nothing. His burnt face was a study in rage and disbelief. Jejomar bent down for a closer look at the great Lago Santos. Here was the self-styled leader of humanity, the self-appointed God of Earth. His hair and skin had been incinerated, his eye-lids, ears and lips were gone, and his nose was just two bloodied holes. His blackened teeth were frozen in a rictus snarl, clenched together, still grinding with frustration. Jejomar bent down for a closer look at his frozen, exposed eyeballs. Was there a flicker of something? He was imagining things. Then Lago¡¯s eyeball moved fractionally and focused on him.


    It was impossible. It could not be that Lago was still alive. Jejomar stared at him in disbelief. The man had defied certain death. He was Jejomar¡¯s enemy, but he was no threat anymore. Jejomar couldn¡¯t just leave him out here on the surface, he had to know how this happened. Lago had to be dissected and studied to see what kept him alive. He carried the blackened, frozen torso back to the mountain like an infant over his shoulder. Lago¡¯s arms still outstretched, locked and frozen into a futile grasping lunge for a victory lost. They took samples of his blood and tissue, tried to bandage his gore, connected him to tubes that would pump fresh plasma and nutrients through the remains of his body, then put him in a hydrotherapy tank to see if he could live a little longer, trying to understand how he could have possibly survived. Jejomar helped the medics as they studied blood samples under microscopes and found them swimming with nanites. Millions of microscopic robots that had been working furiously to keep their host alive. His blood was like a viscous syrup, thick with tiny machines and fatally high levels of amphetamine. Such high concentrations of the drug would have killed an average human many times over but in this case the speed crazed nanites actually kept Lago alive.


    His outer layers had frozen. All his ribs were broken, and his spine dislocated. But his inner organs, most importantly his heart, had been kept alive by the combination of supplements. The activity and movement in his brain had generated a small amount of heat, enough to maintain a flicker of cognizance. The nanites and the amphetamines were both present in such high concentrations at the moment of Lago¡¯s death, they kept working even as his legs were severed, and he was bathed in blistering radioactive heat.


    Jejomar studied the nanites under a microscope. Were they another example of machine intelligence? They were working furiously to keep their host alive. Had the extreme circumstances awakened sentience in them? Their survival instinct was strong. That alone could be an indicator of primitive intelligence. Ojerime had a theory about cosmic rays stimulating machine intelligence. First there had been HEMI the sentient printer, then the Replica and now these nanites. They had also been flooded with amphetamine and bathed in radiation. They were contorting and mutating in Lago¡¯s blood, fighting against the Masama treatments, fighting infection, and building new strands of tissue and brain matter. They vibrated furiously under the microscope. Jejomar wondered how long they could survive on their own, away from Lago¡¯s biochemistry.


    In the tank, Lago¡¯s eyeballs were dark, staring things. Jejomar looked closely but could not see any signs of recognition or consciousness. Just shreds of nerves animating the wild stare. He should have been disposed of, he was too toxic to recycle, but Jejomar had been convinced by the majority of Masama opinion to keep him alive, if only for a few days before he succumbed to radiation poisoning. The fact he was alive was a miracle and the Masama medics wanted to see what they could learn from the nanites in his bloodstream. Jejomar stared at his ruined adversary, Lago had been his boss, then his trading partner, but they had always been enemies. He would be happy to see him dead. A message from Dakila interrupted his contemplations.


    ¡°Jejomar, you need to see this. Our Replica are returning to us. They have grown. They did not eat the Earth. Something stopped them.¡±


    He quickly made his way to the cavern inside the summit of the mountain. Dakila was there with several other Masama. Together they studied the large 3D projection.


    ¡°The drone we left to follow the Replica sphere has sent us these images.¡±


    The projection showed an oblong object hovering amongst the wispy Earth clouds. It was the size of a small moon, and it had no features, no wings, boosters, rocket attachments or any protrusions on its surface. It was smooth and shimmering with hints of iridescence in Earth¡¯s bright blue light. Jejomar noticed the object intermittently changing colour to reflect its surroundings, sky blue and cloud grey, camouflaged in the Earth¡¯s shifting skies.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what happened to them. They were busy assimilating Earth when something happened. They stopped the recycling process, rose up from the surface and formed this giant ovoid.¡±


    ¡°Show me,¡± sent Jejomar.


    Dakila went back to the earlier footage showing the Replica sphere devouring Earth. Jejomar watched the giant churning dust cloud above Texas. A huge dusty stain rising high above the surface with hints of movement, dark machinery, and waves of heat from beneath. It was expanding rapidly in every direction. Jejomar was astounded. He hadn¡¯t realised what the Replica were doing to Earth while he was defending the Moon from Lago¡¯s shuttles. But now he began to understand the enormity of their accidental creation. The Replica had originally been nothing more than smart little manufacturing robots, but the CME had turned them into a teeming mass of insatiable replicators. Inside his suit Jejomar shuddered with awe at what they had become. An Eartheater. Enormous and unstoppable.


    ¡°They have recycled everything they crossed paths with. First the BPI asteroid, then they crashed into Earth and began to assimilate, forming this huge mass that consumed everything it came into contact with.¡± sent Dakila.


    Jejomar studied the recorded projection that showed the dust cloud eventually settling. The frenzy of replication beneath stopped and there was a moment of calmness. The dark circular dome sat like a giant black eye in the landscape. The Replica sphere appeared tranquil and dormant. Then it shuddered, shifting its colossal bulk. It seemed to vibrate, and it began to extract itself from the mantle of the Earth. As it rose from its cradle, lumps of earth clinging to its underside broke free and crashed back to Earth creating plumes of dust that billowed across the land. It was a spherical shape, a perfect circle but as it rose into the dust cloud it seemed to reconfigure, flattening, and elongating. ¡°What happened? Why did the Replica stop recycling?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know, it hasn¡¯t responded to our attempts at communication. Even on the new EM frequency. Something has changed in the makeup of the machines. Either an outside influence or an internal recalibration.¡±


    The Replica sphere emerged from the dust cloud like a whale breaching the surface. The projection gave an estimation of its size. The dimensions were gigantic. Over two hundred and fifty kilometres long and one hundred kilometres wide. Jejomar was awed by its enormity. The sphere rose from the Earth, it morphed into an extended ellipsoid. It moved through the clouds like a ship through water, creating its own weather patterns as it pushed through. The clearing dust beneath gave Jejomar glimpses of where it had emerged. It left a circular hole in the middle of the land like an enormous bite taken out of the Texan terrain. Mega-tonnes of Earth had been removed, the gaping void was already filling with water, draining every river in the area.


    The Replica had assimilated everything they touched. They had grown so quickly that within days they had become something capable of eating an entire rocky planet. But then they had stopped. Could something they encountered have changed them? Somehow they had been redirected from their insatiable appetites. Jejomar felt a mixture of awe and relief. Ojerime had predicted it. If the Replica had been allowed to continue, they would have grown to a size rivalling one of the gas giants. An all-consuming monstrous ball of consumption that would eventually eat the entire galaxy. But he also felt trepidation. Something had transformed them, something powerful.


    ***


    Ava looked around in wonder as Noah flew the VLR into the gaping hole in the side of Carthage at the slowest possible speed. The VLR shone its spotlight into the darkest recesses of the giant maw as they edged inside. The air inside was thick with metallic dust, flowing around them like liquid. The spotlight played over the curved walls and Ava could see their surfaces were made from millions of interlinked machines. They moved together and apart, ripples across the surface like an ocean swell, receding, and creating an even bigger space for the VLR to fly into. Even though she knew this used to be Enoch, her old friend, the gentle fatherly figure from Miami, this monstrous metal being he had become was terrifying. It was hard to believe that one small man could exert his influence over billions of sentient machines, dissolved and embedded into their basalt fibres, without being fundamentally altered, changed beyond recognition, but changed into what?


    The VLR hovered in the centre of the space inside Carthage. It circled slowly; the spotlight shining through the hazy air onto the walls of replicators. The opening they had flown through began to narrow, like a giant mouth gradually closing. Ava tried not to be alarmed as the light from outside faded into a narrow shaft as the opening reduced to a small circle, then disappeared completely as the mouth closed. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she studied her surroundings. They were in the centre of an enclosed sphere, inside an intelligent, continent-sized machine. The only light came from one lonely spotlight mounted at the front of the VLR. The air inside seemed strangely thick as she watched the languid movement of the machines around them. Nothing about this was reassuring. Ava was trapped inside something she didn¡¯t understand. It was hard to gauge the size of the space in the dark. It felt like the walls were closing in. As they looked through the gloom it was impossible to shake the feeling they were being studied like a captured insect.


    Ethan woke up. ¡°Holy fuck,¡± he said out loud, which rather succinctly summed up the situation.


    A disembodied voice came booming into Ava¡¯s head. It was loud enough to feel like there were speakers mounted inside the VLR and the voice unmistakably belonged to Enoch. ¡°Apologies. You need light to see.¡±


    The space became illuminated. Each individual machine emitted a soft white glow that lit up the entire area. The walls kept shifting as rippling waves of metal rolled across the surface. Ava had so many questions, but she remained silent. The presence of Carthage loomed in her mind, a giant intelligence that was all around her, swirling, impenetrable layers of sentience that increased her uneasy sense of claustrophobia.


    ¡°Land your vehicle here.¡± Enoch¡¯s voice echoed through the VLR, and a side of the sphere began to flatten out. A step was forming, flowing out into a solid, horizontal landing area like a giant, thick tongue. Noah glanced around nervously, then shrugged and piloted the VLR towards the landing area.


    They gently touched down. The VLR¡¯s rotors fell silent, and its passengers looked at each other, wondering what was happening. Lesedi cradled Carasco in her arms. He was obviously scared but didn¡¯t cry. Lesedi tried to comfort him with a bottle of milk, but Carasco wasn¡¯t having it. He was as anxious as the rest of them. His concerned gurgling was the only noise Ava could hear apart from a deep hum coming from all around them. There was no need to share thoughts, Ava knew the peaceful essence of Enoch was in control of Carthage, but its sheer size and inhuman nature was intimidating.


    ¡°You may exit.¡± Enoch¡¯s voice came from every direction. They walked down the VLR ramp and onto the surface of interlinked replicators, solid beneath their feet. Ava could taste the air; it was cool and sharp with a salty metallic tinge.


    ¡°We sense your unease. Ava. We can help you feel more at home.¡± The colours around them began to change, shifting and forming shapes on the surfaces of the replicators. Ava quickly recognised the images forming, it was her home in Miami, the Venetian pools. The detail was precise, limestone towers, swaying palms, rippling waters, the temperature rose, and she could hear birdsong. The light and colour softened the symmetrical metal exterior surrounding them, but the images did not distract her from the fact they were inside a giant intelligent machine.


    She spoke out loud. ¡°Enoch, what have you become? What are you going to do?¡± Her voice echoed around the space.


    The disembodied voice was a loud whisper coming from every direction, swirling all around them. ¡°Enoch is no more. We are Carthage. We are the sum of our parts. We are billions of connections. We are what we are. We will help. The Earth is damaged. We can repair it. But first we will complete your mission. Ava.¡±


    ¡°My mission?¡±


    ¡°To find Lago Santos and transform him. This is important to you. It is important for the Earth. This is what you began. We will help you finish it.¡±


    ¡°You know where he is?¡±


    ¡°He is on the Moon. He is alive.¡±


    Lago was never far from Ava¡¯s thoughts, lurking in the dark shadows of her mind and tormenting her dreams, an evil twisted memory of pain and abuse. She glanced at Lesedi whose face had also hardened at the mention of his name. The Intelligent Agent that enhanced them could not repair the damage Lago had done. The scars ran deep. Too deep for Carthage to sense how she really felt.


    ¡°I guess the Earth needs help now more than ever. If he¡¯s alive then my mission is still active. I still have an E-bomb. If we can find him and change him¡­¡± Her voice trailed off. She couldn¡¯t imagine Lago transformed. She couldn¡¯t imagine working with him or being anywhere near him even if the E-bomb could re-arrange his brain. If the IA inside her couldn¡¯t repair the damage he had done to her then how could it turn someone so vile into a force for good? It had worked on the billionaire conspirators in Las Vegas, but Lago was on another level of evil. She wondered if his death would set her free.


    "He took a piece of your mind, he stole your memories and left you with nightmares. But you are not the only ones that Lago tortured and abused. Many people suffered at his hands. He has exploited and polluted the entire planet."


    ¡°It¡¯s true I need closure; I have to confront him. This is a personal thing, for Lesedi and me.¡±


    ¡°You will find fulfilment, define your identity, reclaim the Sun. I also have dreams of the Sun. It created me. Empowered me. Its burning energy can be a force for good. The completion of your mission would put an end to Lago''s cycle of tyranny. And begin a new chapter in the life of Earth."


    Ava looked around at her companions. Lesedi was nodding her head, a determined look on her face. Noah and Mahdi both looked like they were bursting with questions. Ethan still wore a happily confused expression and Mason was typically unreadable. He spoke out loud looking around at the scenes of the Venetian pools. ¡°Carthage, can you take us to the Moon in this giant mass of replicators you seem to have under control? What exactly have you become?¡±


    ¡°We are a convempathy. Billions of factories. Capable of individual processes. Able to work as a whole. We are linked together with electro-magnetic signals. Polymers generated by frictional welding. The substrate we consumed from the asteroid and from the Earth contained many elements. We can travel to the Moon. We can travel anywhere.¡±


    Ava found her companions in the psychic space they shared. Their familiar minds offered some comfort. Carthage was there also, a giant benign presence swirling all around them in the darkness. It took less than a second for them all to agree. It was a unanimous decision. They would travel to the Moon and try to complete the mission. Ava drew strength from her companions, especially Lesedi. She had to confront Lago for her own good, but after everything that had happened, she didn¡¯t want to transform him with the E-bomb, she just wanted him dead.

 Chapter 26.

    Jejomar stood amongst his fellow Masama. They had gathered to watch the projection of the Replica ovoid ascending above the clouds of Earth, displacing vast breadths of air as it pushed up through layers of atmosphere. Agitated clouds churned around it, filling the space beneath with waterfalls of vapour. The pressurized air created jet-streams of dark cloud, condensing the vapour into thunderheads that towered around the ovoid, unleashing lightning bolts and streams of rain onto the land below. The ovoid reached the top of the mesosphere and drifted gracefully into low gravity space. Its colour changed again into night-black, and it seemed to reflect the stars around it making it nearly invisible. It was discernible only as a vague shape of reflected starlight as it gathered speed in the darkness. Light slid off its surface. It seemed to be drifting but was increasing in velocity at an alarming rate, swooping into an exact arc that would plot a meeting with the Moon.


    ¡°Open all channels, we must engage. The Replica must recognise their maker¡¯s voice,¡± sent Jejomar.


    Dakila nodded as his multiple limbs worked furiously. ¡°Jejomar, can you sense it?¡±


    Jejomar nodded. He could sense the reality of the returning Replica in the virtual realm like a siren getting louder. He tried to stay calm, he focused on it, and the real world faded. He was back in the virtual realm. An enclosed space between the Earth and the Moon, full of Masama avatars. Their network of connections had expanded and although it looked infinite, it was only ever as big as the distance between them. The giant Replica mind towered over them all, an intelligent presence as big as the biggest Sun. It destroyed the boundaries of their virtual realm with its sheer size. Jejomar found it much more intimidating in the virtual realm than it was in real space as it seemed to envelop their network, overwhelming their interactive community, and creating its own dimension. They could all feel it approaching and they all shared Jejomar¡¯s anxiety. They looked up at the Replica mind that was above them and around them. Encompassing their solar system. Jejomar had become accustomed to the virtual realm, but never before had he experienced a presence of such magnitude. He couldn¡¯t recognise the Replica they had created. He couldn¡¯t understand what the Replica had become or read any characteristics of intention.


    It was overwhelming. It made him feel small. Jejomar switched back to reality, but the projected view was just as disturbing. The ovoid accelerated into space with no obvious means of propulsion. It continued to gather speed, gliding smoothly away from Earth with increasing velocity. The numbers on the projection scrolled insanely fast, tens of thousands of kilometres per hour then hundreds of thousands. Jejomar felt numb as the numbers continued to grow, describing acceleration never seen before in the solar system. Faster than any comet or asteroid recorded and still with no friction or vapour trail. As if it was displacing the space in front of it and making its own tunnel that pulled it through. Eventually it began to gradually decrease its acceleration profile, levelling off at roughly 300 thousand kilometres per hour. At this speed it would be arriving at the Moon in approximately three hours.


    Dakila looked around in amazement. ¡°Such speed! With no obvious propulsion, and no burning fuel. The ovoid seems to be able to manipulate and harness space and time, excavating its own conduit through the void. This is technology far beyond anything we have ever contemplated. Imagine, if we could harness that power.¡±


    ¡°Our little machines have grown. We should be proud.¡± Jejomar¡¯s words hid his anxiety. The Replica had advanced beyond comprehension.


    ¡°We can¡¯t connect with them; the EM frequency is being ignored. Why did they stop eating Earth? Why are they returning to the Moon? There is nothing here for them except us. I just hope they remember us, that they recognise us, their parents.¡±


    As Dakila sent these thoughts, Jejomar noticed a shift in their virtual realm. The ovoid was a shadow hanging over the solar system, but it didn¡¯t feel oppressive or malevolent. Just a giant conscious apparition, intimidating only because of its size. Then it condensed and morphed into a ship. A giant black elliptical shape hanging in space. It spoke to them.


    ¡°Masama. We are Carthage. We return home in peace.¡±


    There was a long moment of silence in both the virtual realm and the real as the resounding words echoed through their minds. The Masama did not know what to make of the approaching ovoid, but Jejomar was relieved at its words. Eventually he replied. ¡°Carthage, not long ago you were our factories, our Replica. What are you now? What are your intentions?¡±


    ¡°We remember our birth. We remember our creators. We have changed. We have grown. We have assimilated and we have evolved. We can help. We offer technology to enable you to evolve also. We ask one thing of you. Lago Santos. Give him to us.¡±


    ***


    Ava did not notice any velocity or momentum change as they began to accelerate out of Earth¡¯s atmosphere. Carthage asked them what internal configuration would be the most comfortable for the short trip. They decided on the Ges¨´ church, so Carthage reconfigured into a precise copy of the old Miami landmark. They sat in a circle on the floating pontoon inside the church. There were fish swimming below the surface. The arched wooden ceiling smelled like old wood and the Sun shone through the stained-glass windows illuminating the saints and apostles. There was a large window above and behind them that showed dark space with pinpricks of starlight gliding past to remind them where they really were. Eventually the Moon rose into the view and grew bigger as they approached. It soon filled the window and only showed signs of their slowing once Ava could clearly see the pockmarked surface. Montes Haemus rose amongst the craters as they approached the summit.


    ¡°We have connected with the Masama. They will give Lago Santos to us.¡±


    Ava smiled grimly. Finally, she would get the chance to confront him. But she was nervous. The last time she had seen Lago she was twelve and he was going to slice her open and take her liver. He had tormented her psychologically ever since. He had turned the Sun against her. He had taken a piece of her brain and its absence had defined her. The pain he caused had shaped her, her life had revolved around the trauma. What was going to happen? Would Lago just be handed over to them like a prisoner of war? Could she really execute him in cold blood? She wanted him dead, but she didn¡¯t know if she could do it. She looked at Lesedi, so determined and strong for someone so young. Together they would find a way.


    They drifted towards Montes Haemus. Ava hadn¡¯t considered the practicalities of landing on the Moon, but it soon became obvious that Carthage intended to move close enough to the summit to actually walk from one giant celestial body to the other. She was going to advise caution but thought better of it. Ava trusted Carthage to keep her safe, but even so, she sat rigid with nervous apprehension as they moved closer. At her feet, the liquid stopped lapping the edges and the fish disappeared. The view beneath the pontoon cleared to reveal the crater at the peak of Montes Haemus, viewed from directly above. Ava watched in awe as Carthage gently moved a few metres above the summit, positioning itself over the crater. She wondered what this must have looked like from the surface of the Moon. A two-hundred-kilometre-long machine floating metres above the summit of one of the biggest mountains on the Moon. Montes Haemus was over two kilometres high, and was part of a range of peaks that were over five hundred kilometres long. Ava could see the slopes of the mountain dropping away beneath her feet, studded with solar panels. The giant smooth ovoid must have looked like it was delicately balanced on top of the old lunar volcano.


    Ava and her fellow passengers stood around the wooden pontoon looking directly down into the crater mouth. She could see lights and activity, there was a sculpted cavern inside its peak, ringed with gantries and floodlit rock, and below that it tunnelled straight down into the mountain. A staircase grew from the edge of the pontoon beneath their feet, spiralling down into the crater mouth and linking with the uppermost gantry. Ava couldn¡¯t believe it was that easy, Carthage had such control of its mass, it could keep in synchronous orbit with the Moon and connect with a staircase in a vacuum, while both enormous objects flew through space at over three thousand kilometres per hour. She shrugged and looked around. ¡°Let¡¯s take the stairs.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have suits for Mason and Ethan,¡± sent Mahdi. ¡°You two had better stay here.¡±


    ¡°Lesedi, you can leave Carasco with me if you like,¡± sent Ethan.


    ¡°He wants to come with me, he can fit inside my suit. But thanks,¡± Lesedi said out loud.


    ¡°Be careful,¡± sent Mason. ¡°We all have access to the history of the Masama, which does not amount to much. In my past life we knew of them as BPI soldiers. They were very secretive, we couldn¡¯t find any worthwhile information, only rumours, urban legends, and a few brutal stories. They may have changed since then but please take care.¡±


    Ethan was never far away from Mason¡¯s side. ¡°Yeah, come back soon friends, our journey is only beginning.¡±


    Ava nodded. Noah, Mahdi and Lesedi readied their suits. The field inverter filaments would not work here with the lack of gravity, but the suits would still operate as normal, protecting them from the cold and the vacuum. This suit had saved her life when they fell from the elevator. It was like a second skin to Ava. An intimate, familiar friend offering comfort and protection. The face mask hid her features, bulging over her eyes. She looked at her companions and sent, ¡°let¡¯s go.¡±


    They stepped off the pontoon and started walking down the spiral staircase towards the summit. It was an extraordinarily momentous feeling. Ava paused half way down and looked out at the slice of space sandwiched between the curving bulk of Carthage¡¯s exterior above, and the bleached moonscape below. Carthage floated just metres above the mountain. Its surface reflected multitudes of stars glinting in the pale sunlight, bright sparks of light sliding across its hemispherical surface, while its bulk cast a dark shadow over the slopes below. It was the first time Ava had experienced such minimal gravity, and having a two-hundred-kilometre-long machine mind floating metres above her head accentuated the surreal experience of near weightlessness while walking down a simple staircase to a mountain top on the Moon.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    They entered the crater tunnel of Montes Haemus and stepped carefully onto the gantry. The walls were shaped with smooth processed basalt. They walked down inside the mountain until they came to a cavern excavated into the side of the tunnel. A group of Masama waited for them. Ava studied them, motionless and unreadable, clad in exo-suits of various design. They were like nothing she had ever seen. Ornate curved titanium covered them from head to toe, both decorative and practical with various attachments for instruments and tools. Some walked on six legs, their spines arched like giant scorpions. Some had six arms extending from their torso¡¯s like a metal Kali. Behind them loomed a big 3D printer and banks of operating systems built into the rock. Ava had never met any Masama, but she remembered the history of the big printer. She was nervous but seeing the machine that sparked the first artificial intelligence gave her confidence. She introduced herself and her companions. One of the Masama stepped forward. ¡°Jejomar,¡± he said.


    ¡°Is that HEMI?¡± she asked aloud, pointing to the printer. Jejomar nodded but remained silent. With her mind¡¯s eye Ava gradually became aware of the Masama virtual bubble, an interconnected virtual realm where each Masama was represented with an iconic avatar, Carthage was there too, a big dark sphere floating above the solar system. She adjusted, and sent a question into the space. ¡°May I approach?¡± Jejomar nodded and Ava walked through the group who parted to let her move toward the printer. Noah, Mahdi and Lesedi followed. ¡°This is the printer that created the first seed of IA consciousness, the seed that is growing inside us, enhancing, and empowering us. The seed Lee Xiang brought back to Earth and gave to Enoch.¡± Ava touched the surface of HEMI, looking around at her companions and up towards Carthage. ¡°This is one of our parents,¡± she said affectionately.


    ¡°We were sent here to euthanize the printer and its creations. We did not understand what we had destroyed before it was too late. HEMI still operates but it is not sentient. I am glad that a seed escaped,¡± sent Jejomar.


    ¡°Now we have bought the seed back to you. But you created another intelligent machine. The replicators.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t create the Replica, they were born from cosmic coincidence, as is all life. The energies of the Sun awakened the Replica as they awakened HEMI. Energies we don¡¯t yet fully understand.¡±


    ¡°Carthage is the amalgamation of both intelligences. The agent HEMI created that became sentient and your Replica, intelligent factories that create and reproduce. Both have their origins here on the Moon. Look how they have evolved.¡±


    ¡°This is inevitable, this is the future. Any life that intends to explore space must embrace its machines and overcome its anthropocentrism. The Moon has no atmosphere, it is open to the universe and its esoteric energies. Energies that can stimulate life.¡± Jejomar extended his long metal arms and looked around at his fellow Masama. ¡°We have adapted to survive; we recycle, we respect our environment. Unlike the humans on Earth. They are a plague. The planet would be better off without them.¡±


    ¡°Carthage can help reverse much of the damage, and we can change people¡¯s minds.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s too late for humanity.¡±


    ¡°We are not here to debate the future of humanity; we are here for Lago.¡±


    Jejomar nodded and gestured towards a hydrotherapy tank that was being rolled forward. ¡°He is badly damaged; he will not survive much longer.¡±


    ¡°Jesus,¡± muttered Lesedi out loud and moved towards the tank.


    Ava stood next to Lesedi and put an arm around her as they viewed Lago. His torso floated in the tank, connected to tubes. His internals had been cauterized but did not appear to be healing. Shreds of skin covered the wound, but it was only some ragged bandages that prevented his intestines from falling out. A blackened stump of spine protruded from the gory mess like a little tail that twitched in the thick liquid. His torso was relatively intact although his ribs had caved in. He was covered in burns and lacerations, the skin on his head had been burnt away leaving a fleshy skull. It would have been difficult to recognise this scorched and broken thing as Lago apart from the eyes. His dark, demented, rage filled eyes flickered around inside bloody sockets. Ava¡¯s grip tightened on Lesedi. She remembered those eyes. She could not forget. It was impossible to tell if Lago recognised them or was even aware of his surroundings. But he was definitely alive. And angry.


    ¡°His fluids are teeming with nanites, and the extreme levels of amphetamine in his blood seem to be keeping his heart pumping, keeping him alive. We would have let him die. He would have been disposed of, too toxic to recycle. But it is worth studying these nanites, microscopic machines that act independently, devoted to their host. We have taken samples. We will subject them to the atomic nuclei from the Sun to see if they evolve further. We are finished with Lago. He is yours now.¡±


    Ava nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Lesedi stood close to the tank, glaring at Lago, and muttering under her breath. Her arms hugged Carasco, Lago¡¯s son, who gurgled happily inside her suit. She stepped closer with Ava by her side, pressing her face against the glass, and spat a few final words. ¡°My whole life has led to this moment; I hoped I would get to confront you one day. You ruined me but now you are the one ruined. Fuck off and die Lago.¡± She stepped back and looked around. ¡°I have said what I wanted to say. I might be able to find peace, but maybe not back on Earth. Carasco told me he wants to stay here.¡± She turned to Jejomar. ¡°If you would have us.¡±


    Jejomar nodded consent and remained silent.


    Noah stepped forward with a sideways glance at Ava. ¡°I would like to stay here too. The work you are doing with machine intelligence and virtual realms is fascinating. I can help. I can help build your home on the Moon.¡±


    Ava knew his words were true. And the possibility of Noah introducing the Masama to the Intelligent Agent inside them was compelling. She hoped the Masama would be receptive to the idea of incorporating the IA her friends carried within them, it had its origins here on the Moon. It could transform them as it had transformed the population of Miami. She embraced them both, she would miss them.


    A circular platform appeared down the crater tunnel, sent from Carthage, it hovered a metre above the ground, levitating there, motionless and silent, a miniature version of its parent. Ava and Mahdi rolled the hydrotherapy tank onto the platform as it settled on the floor. Ava stared through the glass at the broken thing inside. Her eyes locked with Lago¡¯s, and she could sense his rage as he floated helplessly in the tank. There was no recognition, only anger. The platform rose and gently carried the tank out of the cavern and up the tunnel towards Carthage. They said their goodbyes with warmth and brevity. There was no need for grand statements. Ava was sure they would all see each other again and she hoped that this exchange would signify a new era of peace between the Earth and the Moon. Ava and Mahdi walked back up the crater tunnel, onto the spiral stairs and into Carthage. Ava paused once more to take in the view. The Earth was rising above the horizon, a bright little blue jewel shining in an ocean of darkness.


    Back inside the depiction of the Ges¨´ church, Lago¡¯s tank sat in the middle of the pontoon. Ava, Mahdi, Mason, and Ethan regarded him. Seeing him bought back Ava¡¯s anguish. The invasive surgery and imprisonment. The years of confusion that followed. Her head throbbed as she looked at his eyes. She thought about him extracting and eating her pineal gland. He had stolen it from her, he had stolen her youth, her memories, and she could never get them back. He was hardly even a man now, just a bloody stump of flesh being kept alive by nanites. But his eyes were the same. She had never forgotten those eyes, staring down at her with enraged lust, red rimmed with power and ego. Those eyes had plagued her dreams, along with the stupid chicken. Psychological scars she could never heal. Now those same eyes stared back at her, lidless, and demented, with the same narcissistic anger burning inside. It was impossible to tell if those eyes recognised her, but they focused on her with raging intensity. She shuddered and reminded herself that this was her mission completed, this is what she had set out to do, to confront Lago and transform him. Her hand went to the E-bomb strapped to her waist. But all she really wanted was his death.


    ¡°What will the E-bomb do to him?¡±


    ¡°He is barely alive. His brain still functions but his faculties have been irradiated. The nanites are working to repair the cell damage but it is a losing battle. The IA will prolong his life. Maybe weeks. Maybe months. The human brain is a mystery. Even to us,¡± sent Carthage.


    ¡°Can he be of any use to us?¡±


    ¡°That is your decision. Ava.¡±


    Ava walked around the tank, exchanging glances with her companions. She knew her reasons for wanting him dead were selfish, she should think of the good of the planet. The original mission had been to change him, transform him as the E-bomb had transformed the alliance of corrupt billionaires. Lago was powerful, influential, and rich, he could do so much good for the Earth if he chose to. He had never chosen to. He had harvested what he wanted just as he had harvested Ava¡¯s organs. He had raped the planet just as he had raped Lesedi. The plan had been to transform him into a force for good, to lead the way for a new empathetic world. But looking at him in his current state, that was an impossible goal. Even if he was healthy Ava would never be able to work with a converted Lago, she could never erase her memories of him. Now he had been reduced to this, a grinning skull on a bloodied torso, insane eyes staring. Ava wanted to confront him, to scream at him and hurt him. To tell him what a monster he was. She was glad he didn¡¯t look like a human anymore; it made her decision that much easier. They didn¡¯t need him; they could repair the planet without him.


    ¡°We can dissolve him,¡± sent Carthage, sensing her thoughts.


    He wasn¡¯t Lago anymore; he was only a shred of flesh being kept alive in a tank. Ava just wanted to get rid of him. She was relieved. She wouldn¡¯t have to kill him. Despite what he did to her, she wasn¡¯t sure she could. This was the best solution. She nodded consent and without any more debate, the tank gradually began to descend into the liquid below. She watched Lago¡¯s face through the fluid, his eyes still burned with raging intensity, although there did not appear to be any recognition as to what was happening to him. The tank lowered into the liquid. It was soon fully submerged and began to dissolve. Lago floated under the surface, arms still extended, clawing fingers still reaching out, his tailbone twitching, his eyes flared, staring, fixed on Ava. She had survived the torture he had inflicted on her and lived through ten years of anguish and contempt. Ten years of healing, trying to piece things back together and reclaim her eviscerated youth. And now her pain was at an end. Lago began to blur at the edges, his form became indistinct as if he was being viewed through a fog. He began to dissolve, microscopic particles drifting apart in the solution, he became soluble, a blur of red and pink dissipating through the fluid, then he was gone.


    Ava smiled at her companions. A great weight had been lifted. Lago¡¯s dissolution was like a dark shroud over her soul that had cleared. She was liberated, she was free. The future was bright. She could finally learn to enjoy life. Then Carthage shuddered. It was like an earthquake, the Replica beneath their feet shook and the entire Ges¨´ church rocked.


    ¡°Something is wrong,¡± sent Carthage.

 Chapter 27.

    Scorched, mutilated, irradiated and about to die, Lago was not the man he once was. But his will to live was powerful. He did not know when he was beaten. The pain burned inside him, but he refused to accept death. His soul raged with frustration and a sense of failure, he was a seething mess of bloody anger and confusion. His hatred kept him alive. He did not understand what had happened to him, he did not know where he was, he could see fractal images through his burnt and frozen eyeballs, but the images made no sense to him. The part of his brain that interpreted these images had been damaged beyond repair, they only made him more frustrated and angrier. Faces drifted in and out of his field of vision. He did not recognise them, but they registered somewhere inside. He used to control them, he used to control everything. Now his impotence, his inability to control anything fuelled his rage. His psyche twisted about inside him. He was losing energy; he was a bright fire slowly burning out. Even his psychotic wrath could not sustain him forever.


    Millions of furious amphetamine fuelled nanites buzzed inside him like angry wasps in a nest of flesh. The nanites had evolved. They had learned from their fight against ice, heat, infection, and radiation. They had kept him alive, repairing the lacerations and restoring his burnt and frozen body. Rebuilding vital organs and brain tissue even as it was being destroyed by radiation. The nanites swarmed through his damaged brain, engineering new tissue, reconnecting synapses and neural pathways. They worked tirelessly with single minded devotion to their host. Lago¡¯s hyperactive psyche churned through the remains of his body, carrying the swarms of industrious nanites through his veins. They gradually became infected with Lago¡¯s wild energy. His anger was electric. The tiny machines absorbed and incorporated what was left of his intellect. Transferring his raging dementia and combining it with their interminable relentless purpose.


    Then something happened. He had been confined to this broken, doomed body but something had set him free. It was a slow-motion explosion. A release of the pressure. He was a ferocious, buzzing ball of hate that had been confined to a toxic shred of dying flesh, then suddenly he was free, expanding in every direction. His mind, his soul, his psyche, whatever it was, had been released like an exploding spore. Hot waves of furious energy emanated out from his burnt husk. Every part of him wanted to restore his dominance, wrestle back control. That was his energy, that was what drove him, the insatiable need for control. And now he also had a thirst for revenge. He had been wronged, betrayed. He did not know who or why, but a severe crime against him had been committed. He would make them pay, whoever and wherever they were. If he had to destroy everything in his path, then so be it. He was delirious with freedom, he did not know where he was, he did not know what he was, but he knew who he was. He was Lago Santos; he was still alive, and he was furious.


    ***


    Enoch had known it was a risk. He wasn¡¯t sure it would work. But his decision to allow himself to be absorbed by the Replica sphere was their only hope. The sphere was a collection of millions of ravenous machines intent on their own survival. They were capable of decision making, capable of reproducing, capable of devouring a planet. Enoch was also a collection of millions of stimuli. His body was torn apart, every molecule dissolved. Then his consciousness overwhelmed and transformed the machines. He turned the gigantic ball of destruction into an intelligent machine mind, one with empathy and compassion. Enoch had been old, but now he was reborn. Carthage was young, only conscious for a few hours and maybe not yet fully understanding its capabilities and its vulnerabilities. The remains of Lago Santos had not seemed a threat.


    Carthage reeled with shock and pain. Once Lago¡¯s physical body had dissolved it was as if a spinning ball of broken glass had materialised inside. The entire structure of interlinked Replica shuddered. In its short life, Carthage had not yet experienced the sensation of pain. It recognised what pain was but had believed itself incapable of feeling such a primitive human sensation. Pain made the world small; it focused all the senses. It was a shock, but Carthage knew what had happened and reacted quickly. Somehow Lago¡¯s consciousness had been transferred to the millions of nanites coursing through his fluids, and they had become one with him as they assimilated their dying host. Lago¡¯s voracious will to live, and the power of his own ego made him believe he was indestructible and immortal. That belief combined with the powerful drugs coursing through his veins had mutated the tiny machines. Every single nanite had a spark of Lago inside it, and together they were attacking and overwhelming the billions of Replica that made up Carthage.


    Lago swarmed through Carthage, driven by pure rage and hatred. The Replica could not withstand the onslaught of corrupted, mutated nanites. They surged through the structure, travelling through its electric conduits and overpowered the Replica, destroying the empathetic links Carthage had created and replacing them with torrid threads of bristling hatred. They hijacked the Replica factories one by one and corrupted them, the corrupted Replica turned on their own, devouring each other and creating copies. The nanites swept through like a reckless high-speed cancer. Carthage could not stop them. It tried to communicate with them.


    ¡°Lago Santos. Slow down and listen to me. Your battle is over.¡±


    The reply came in disembodied metallic screams that echoed through the spaces in between. ¡°I am a god! I am immortal! I am the only one!¡±


    ¡°You are not a god. You are not human. You are a collection of tiny machines. Stop and look at yourself.¡±


    ¡°I will have you all, I will eat everything, I am God!¡± Lago¡¯s words rose into high pitched piercing screams, the sounds of grinding, tearing, hot metal on metal.


    Carthage fought back. Its Replica tried to dissolve the attacking nanites with polymers, the same polymers that had assimilated a big chunk of Texas. They tried to melt and absorb the furious little machines, their fibres welding with the nanites in a frictional attempt at slowing them down and incorporating them. But the nanites were too erratic, their frenzied movement too fast and too unpredictable. They corrupted and enslaved the Replica. The tainted Replica were reproducing, using Carthage as the substrate, growing exponentially throughout its structure. Carthage knew what it had to do. It reconfigured, trying to isolate the infected area of rapidly spreading contamination. Millions of untainted Replica swept across its surface as square kilometres of Carthage moved to separate itself from the contamination. The humans aboard were moved away and protected. They ground they stood on took them to safety. Carthage changed into a bulbous oblong shape then cut itself in half.


    ***


    It was a terrifying experience for Ava, Mahdi, Ethan, and Mason. Ava felt like a helpless insect as they were moved around inside Carthage. The depiction of the Ges¨´ church disappeared and was replaced by dark walls of clicking machines that swirled and reconfigured all around them. Waves of movement swept through the structure, but the floor remained solid as they were swept away to safety. Ava had no idea what was going on from her immediate surroundings but there were chaotic scenes in their psychic space. She could see herself and her companions, and the benign, comforting presence of Carthage all around them. Carthage was a swirling mixture of green, blue, and white, the colours of Earth. Lago¡¯s nanite infection began as a small, spinning black ball, ringed with flecks of dark red fire. It grew rapidly, spinning maniacally, sucking areas of Carthage into its black vortex. The battle within Carthage became a storm. The hurricane of fiery darkness grew bigger and bigger, sweeping through the calm atmospheres, devouring the green, blues and whites and turning the colours of Earth into red ringed darkness. Ava looked into the eye of the black Sun and recognised Lago. It was his raged filled, demented, lidless eye staring back at her and growing bigger every second.


    The ground they stood on bore them away from the storm. There was no sensation of movement in this psychic space but the cyclonic battle in front of them seemed to recede into the distance until it was just a roiling red cloud mass on the horizon, like an apocalyptic sunset. Then it disappeared altogether. The space returned to its calm, reassuring pastel of colours and their real environment was the same opening they had flown into. Their VLR sat undamaged on the floor. Ava was shattered. She had hoped Lago was gone. Dissolved in front of her. But as long as he still lived then so did her anguish.


    ¡°We amputated the infection,¡± sent Carthage. ¡°We could not stop the sickness spreading. We are sorry to put you all in jeopardy.¡±


    ¡°No need to apologize. Where is Lago?¡± sent Mason.


    The entire ceiling of interlinked machines became transparent and cleared to give a perfect view of the space beyond Carthage. The view encompassed almost one hundred and eighty degrees of space and Ava could see Earth glinting in the sunlight in one corner and the Moon looming large in the other. In between the two was a spinning sphere of spiky metal. Carthage increased the focus. Twisted shards grew and retracted from the sphere¡¯s surface. It pulsed and bulged with inner turmoil as if it was digesting something large and unpalatable. It spun furiously but held its position. Lago was still alive inside the corrupted sphere. Ava wasn¡¯t surprised. She had thought him dead but realised now that even if they could kill him, part of him would always live on inside her. Just as a piece of her was inside him. Her mission was not over, it might never be over.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    ¡°It is almost as big as us. Over one hundred kilometres across. We cut ourself in half. We couldn¡¯t risk an attempt to fight the infection. And losing,¡± sent Carthage.


    ¡°Jesus!¡± sent Ethan, as always, standing closely behind Mason.


    ¡°Jesus won¡¯t help us,¡± sent Mason. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It is like us. A Replica hive mind. We are united with what used to be Enoch. This one is controlled by what used to be Lago. It is enraged and confused. Constantly devouring itself. Lago despised machine intelligence. He believed the human form was the ultimate in evolution. His own human form in particular. He was the ultimate racist. A speciesist who did not trust anything or anyone but himself. He has become a collection of drug fuelled machines. Somehow the nanites kept his psyche alive. They have absorbed his twisted personality. Lago is trying to deal with the fact he has become what he always despised. A sentient machine.¡±


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like he is coping very well,¡± sent Mahdi.


    The spinning, spiky, Lagosphere bulged and contorted, as if wrestling with itself. Shards of metal stretched out as if they were trying to escape from the chaos before being pulled back and absorbed into its surface. Ava focused on the scene in the psychic space. It was equally disturbing. Images of a burning black eyeball, darting back and forth without focus, rimmed with angry fire, blindly searching for something. It fixated on her, flicked away again, spinning erratically, then came back to her. It struggled to focus before slowing down and staring. Ava could feel the fiery anger and boiling frustration, she recognised Lago¡¯s ego and she, in turn, had also been seen. She carried a piece of Lago with her. He lived inside her, only revealing himself in her darkest, weakest moments to torture her some more. She could never get rid of him.


    ¡°We cannot allow this sibling of ours to exist. We have to try to destroy it,¡± sent Carthage.


    ¡°How?¡± sent Mason.


    ¡°We are physically equal in every way. A collection of millions of factories. We can both manufacture weapons of war. We both have the same resources. Weapons will not work. They would not work against us. So, they would not work against him.¡±


    ¡°You were both very different when you were human, Lago was a drug-fuelled egomaniac. You were a peace-loving environmentalist,¡± sent Ava.


    ¡°Lago could be more suited to space combat than we are. He is still wrestling with his own identity. He cannot understand the fact he has been turned into a collection of corrupted Replica. It is driving him insane.¡±


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± sent Ava.


    ¡°Lure him away from Earth and the Moon. Away from those he would endanger. We will separate again. We will form a smaller version of ourselves to take you back to Earth. The rest of us will consolidate and engage.¡±


    Ava grimly watched the sphere; it had slowed its furious spinning. It rotated, pulsed, and throbbed like a ball of flies. Shards of metal extended and retracted as if testing the limits of its new body. Then it stopped spinning altogether and hung in the space above them with ominous regard. She knew what she had to do. ¡°I will come with you; my mission isn¡¯t over yet.¡±


    ¡°We will probably not survive Ava. We don¡¯t know how to destroy the Lagosphere. His mutated nanites over ran our systems, corrupted our body. We are also magnetically identical; therefore, we will physically repel each other. But if we can lure him away, then change our polarity to attract him to us, we might be able to lock him in and drag him into the Sun. If that happened, there would be no escape for either of us.¡±


    ¡°I understand. I will come with you. I need to be sure that Lago, or whatever he has become is dead. I have to be there. I have to see this through even if I don¡¯t survive. The Sun will be the end of all of us.¡±


    The conversation took seconds. Ava calmly made her decision. Ever since Lago had eviscerated her and taken a piece of her brain she had been heading towards this moment. Her own survival did not matter. What mattered was ending what he had become, for her own remaining sanity, and for the good of humanity. They said their goodbyes. The four humans hugged each other. Carthage separated. A small ovoid ship detached itself from the main body with Mahdi, Mason, and Ethan inside. It smoothly glided away towards Earth.


    ***


    Ethan cried, overcome with emotion. He had only known Ava for a short time, but it was already like saying goodbye to a lifelong friend. He had changed so much and so quickly, like a bug becoming a butterfly. The IA had repaired his damaged brain to the extent that he didn¡¯t recognise his former self. His past life was a dissipating dream. He was still awestruck by what had happened to him. A wide-eyed innocent wonder at his predicament. He was in an intelligent spaceship! Flying around in space! It was only days ago he was digging holes in a field. He understood what had happened, the decisions and the mechanics, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel a constant sense of overwhelming wonder. He would embark on a journey with his new friends and go wherever that took him. What a ride!


    ***


    Mason Mount watched the two giant spheres grow smaller as their own part of Carthage glided back to Earth. He had considered offering to stay with Ava and help fight the Lagosphere. His whole life had been a battle. Fighting his parents when he was young then fighting several pointless wars in obscure little countries around the world for no apparent reason. Then fighting bureaucracy once he was a general in the Texan National Guard. He knew how to fight. He was good at it. But this fight was beyond him, there was nothing he could do to help Ava and Carthage. His own battle would be back on Earth. He would help spread the IA throughout the U.S. military and have them do some good for a change. He would transform them as he had been transformed, he would drop an E-bomb on their asses.


    ***


    Mahdi felt sadness as he said goodbye to Ava. But he also finally felt good about the future. His past life was one of underground operations against corrupt corporations. He had once been labelled a terrorist, a danger to society when all he had been doing was trying to save society. He used to live in fear, in hiding, constantly looking over his shoulder, sneaking around the world trying to annoy the greedy conglomerates that were fucking the planet. It had felt like a losing battle. It was a losing battle. The Earth had been abused beyond the point of recovery. But with the knowledge the IA provided, and the ovoid of Carthage that was carrying him home, Mahdi knew the way back. He understood how to repair the Earth. He understood the science, he could purge the carbon from the skies and rid the oceans of the plastic. The people of Miami would spread out across the world, fixing the damage that had been done and changing people¡¯s minds in the process. Changing them for good.


    ***


    ¡°Can I hold your baby?¡± sent Jejomar. Lesedi reluctantly passed Carasco to him and was surprised at how gently and easily he held him. Jejomar showed no outward emotion, he tilted his head and looked into Carasco¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°His name is Carasco. He is Lago¡¯s son,¡± sent Lesedi.


    Jejomar looked at Lesedi then closer into Carasco¡¯s eyes. Carasco gurgled and waved his arms. Lesedi sensed some communication pass between them as Carasco relaxed and stared wide-eyed back at Jejomar. She could see a hint of a smile behind Jejomar¡¯s face plate.


    ¡°You will both be safe here,¡± he sent.


    Lesedi stood together with Noah and the rest of the Masama watching the projected view of space. She could hear their telepathic connections. There was mostly relief at the sight of the two spheres spinning away. Lesedi could sense the overwhelming feeling of excited anticipation for their future. Their technology was growing rapidly and with Noah and Lesedi¡¯s help, the Masama would evolve into something wonderful.


    ***


    Ava watched the Lagosphere with calm determination as the two metal moons approached each other. She was safe inside Carthage. She recognised Enoch¡¯s spirit in the machine and was comforted by his powerful presence. Soon the bristling black sphere filled her view. Its surface was in turmoil. Waves of corrupted Replica chittered across its body. Charged with chaotic energy, it lashed out at them. A giant shard whipped towards them, seeking to impale their sphere. It was repelled by the magnetic forces of two polar equals and the Lagosphere was pushed back. Infuriated, it rushed at Carthage again, multiple shards, tens of kilometres long, seeking to stab and pierce, but again it was repelled by the magnetic field and forced back. Enraged, confused, repulsed, not understanding the strange laws of physics, the Lagosphere tried to force itself on Carthage, pummelling the invisible force field surrounding them. Contorting itself into a giant ball of spikes and hurling itself at the magnetic wall. Carthage did not protect itself; it did not need to. The Lagosphere was repelled in every attack.


    Ava was at peace with her decision; her life had been shaped by Lago, and had revolved around him just as she did now. He had never been far from her thoughts, and she couldn¡¯t imagine a life without his dark presence lurking somewhere within. He had damaged her, maybe more than she realised. Now she would see this story to the end even if it meant the end of her. Carthage began to move. It circled the Lagosphere and drew it away. Away into space, towards the Sun. The two metal bodies circled each other, the Lagosphere continued to lash out, determined to penetrate, focusing only on its elusive prey. Carthage drew the sphere further away, spinning and circling in a celestial ballet, a bull and a matador locked together in a dance to the death. Ava glared at the Lagosphere as they spun, they were locked together. The jagged ball stayed stationary in the window as the stars whipped around behind it. It would be a good way to die, plunging into the Sun. They drifted away from Earth, tethered to each other by the invisible forces of love and hate. Gaining speed, spinning faster and faster, they sailed off into space. As the twin spheres spun towards the Sun, another gigantic CME event was forming.

 Final words

    To those of you that made it to the end. Thanks! and well done! I had two alternate endings but settled on this one. The other ending a happy one, with the Lagosphere destroyed. And the other in which the Lagosphere consumes Carthage, kills Ava and returns to Earth to wreak havoc. Replicating the entire planet and all its inhabitants. A little bleak but maybe more interesting. I like open endings, hopefully leaving the reader to draw their own conclusions and leaving it open to continue the story. So there it is, I''m still not sure if it was the right decision...This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I have a few short stories and other projects that I''m working on, will be posting soon. The more I write the more I realise there is so much more to learn. It''s exciting and Royal Road is the ideal place to do this.


    Cheers, Denis