

10 More Stories

by Floyd Looney

Copyright © 2015 by Floyd G. Looney  
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof  
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever  
without the express written permission of the publisher  
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Be sure to check out my blog where I post a lot

of short stories and other things:

<http://flscifi.blogspot.com/>

Contents

Vamoose

When the Tardigrades Came

They said it was a clock

Skyscraper Archipelago

The First Gate

Forest of the Genres

CRISIS

Dark Envoy

The Keepers

The Gray Tigers

Vamoose

I don't like this city, I don't like crowds and I definitely don't like being outside at night in a place like this. All the freaks of society are out and about and someone as normal as me just does not belong. I just have some business that needs tended to.

These streets at night are like the worst parts of human degeneracy lit up like Vegas. You got your normal drug-dealers and prostitutes during the day, but at night they probably avoid this place too. You might think it'd be interesting if you accidentally clicked on their website but being in the midst for real is just too much.

There's a guy in a top hat and tie, and nothing else, his face is painted like a devil. He's dancing in circles as if he's trying to make himself dizzy. Over there is a woman in a see-through booth, wearing nothing but high-heels, an array of objects on a small table in front of her. For a small fee she'll put on a "show" for you.

I keep walking, looking straight ahead. There is a massive man walking ahead of me, his back is an electronic billboard. Images moving around, advertising, even full video. His entire broad back is one big implanted sub-dermal LED screen. I doubt many people in the crowd are interested in Vita-Grow, no matter how plants crave it.

Finally I spot the little bar, looking out of place without neon signs and video boards, almost looked closed. I ducked inside and head to the bar. A muscular man already at the bar just ignores me, the laughing video skull on his bicep poked out of the short sleeves. In the back I see a shape in the dark that looks like the person I was here to meet.

"Just give me one Co-Va mixer." I tell the bartender who whips it up quickly. I take the drink and head to the table in the back. He was facing the back wall and when I sat down I would be able to see the whole bar.

"Is your name Carlos?" I ask. He nodded. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the holo-cube and laid it on the table. He's the 'let's just get this done' type.

"I want enough DV to get through the chute." I say to him.

"Can't promise luxury, though. You take what you can get. If you want too much, you'll never get off the ground." he said in a deep throaty voice.

I look to the left and roll my eyes, Carlos was sounding like my dad.

I wanted off this sad, cadaverous world. There were people out there selling arms and legs to cannibals when they ran out of sell-able organs, for crying out loud. There was no coming back from this fallen culture, civilization on this planet was dead. I needed to get to one of the colonies, I didn't care how primitive they were.

I finished the drink after Carlos took the money and became gone. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the deadening of the mental pain. Seeing a society dying from inside was not easy, and while I didn't care about these people I did care for the species. After it wore off enough for me to stay balanced I leave to head back to the rat-hole motel.

I ignore the impromptu orgy in the street, the latest craze they called "Caterpillar". Once I reach the motel and turned on some music to drown out the banging noises from the next room I took the holo-cube and laid it on a table top.

I activated it with my wrist-comp and a steady stream of data appeared in the air above it. Then there was an image of a small, rusty four-man ship. It was old. One of the experimental models in the early days of pre-light. There was no galley, no compartments or storage. It was just a four-seat cock-pit and engines.

It would have to work since it was all I could afford. Plus, it was not registered. A ship that small would be confused for a shuttle from one of the larger ships or from the transfer station itself. It was small and light enough to slip into the chute without putting everyone's lives in danger. The chute could only handle so much tonnage at one time.

I would have to get to the ship alive before I could leave though. Looking at the map I saw that there were gang-controlled areas all about it. Security would have to be a prime concern but if I carried an adequate amount, I would be carrying fewer provisions.

There was a knock at the door. I lean down and pull the pinzer from my boot before I walk over and tap the preview button. The door becomes transparent, at least on my end. On the other side was a young woman, a shiny bald head, a collar with a short chain and black leather panties. Her nose and mouth were bleeding and one eye was swollen closed.

It took a second to remember her. Right, she had offered herself to me when I first arrived here, for a price. Apparently she was homeless, a stray, looking for a master. Looks like she found a bad master not too long ago.

I hit the intercom button. "What do you want?"

"I need to hide. Can I stay there for a while?"

I rolled my eyes. Why were freaks either hot or cold around normal people? Either they hate us with a purple passion or they like us and want us to keep them around. Okay, there were a lot who just wanted to see us corrupted, somehow that would make their pain feel better. No, it wouldn't.

"I'm busy."

"I know your alone!" she said quickly. Alone, is that a crime or something. She also knew I wouldn't be out there at the bizarre bazaar.

"Listen, what I do and especially don't do, is my own business." I tell her, but she just bangs on the door and says "He's going to kill me. Please help."

I hated myself but I unlocked the door and she came inside and I locked it again. She went and sat on the bed and put her face in her hands. She was crying. I could see she had several earrings on each ear and a small video tat on a shoulder.

"How did you end up involved in a place like this?" I asked

She looked confused by the question, or maybe because there was a question.

"Isn't this all there is? I thought the whole world was like this." she answered. "My name is Mija, by the way."

A common answer. They just didn't know anything else existed, people like me were the freaks, we shouldn't exist. Of course it was people like me who paid the bills, kept the economy moving, grew the food, researched, created, invented. We did that for a long time, too long. We knew they hated us but we thought we were safe while they depended on us.

So did the 9% of Venebabwe that was European before they were killed and sometimes eaten as the 3rd world countries dropped back into uncivilized barbarism. Sure, those pale faces had been growing most of their food and keeping the government funded, but when the crap hit the fan, it was cannibal time.

You see, that was all they knew. It just was.

She looked well enough to carry extra provisions to the ship, her bruises wouldn't prevent her from carrying a backpack. I could take her with me to the ship, if she didn't want to leave I wouldn't care.

"Listen Mija. I could use some help carrying things across town. I could even pay you for carrying some of it." I tell her, she looked at the door. "If that guy tries to hurt you, I'll shoot him."

I pull out ten thousand-Global notes and hand them to her. She takes them and looks at them closely, for a second I wonder where she would put them. Apparently she has a built-in pouch on the front of that leather thong.

"Once we get there I'll give you more." I tell her. I was leaving, this scrip meant nothing off this lousy world and it was worth less and less on it. The economy was in shambles and getting worse by the day, but the freaks didn't care. They just wanted to dance and sell their bodies and souls to each other.

"If we're going through NorLand, I want a gun too." She says while I was checking my Mag-shot, I pause and consider this. Then I pull out the 9mm with 9-rounds and handed it to her. Again, I was sort of curious where she would put it.

She put it in a small net attached to one of the bags, this would be carried in front. Since her right arm would be free to reach over and grab it, I nod.

"I know a little." She said as I stood. We were both loaded down, but she had several bags hanging off her shoulders and the backpack and it looked a bit ridiculous with the way she was, or wasn't, dressed.

"Are you sure you don't want to put some clothes on?" I ask

"What's wrong with this?" she asked me in return. Then again, it was in the middle of the night and we'd get to the ship before morning. Then she'd be on her own and she could spend the money however she liked.

I carry the Mag-shot and lean it on a shoulder. "Time to go."

It was the dead of night and that is when the freaks are in total control of the streets. Drunk, high or whatever else they called it these days, they were all over the place.

"Stay close." I tell Mija. Suddenly I wondered if she might just vanish with my stuff, she could probably sell some of it, especially the gun. Instead, though, she stayed closed to me and seemed alert, looking all around as we walked.

"Yo, how about a drink?" Some woman, I assume, in blue spandex asked holding up a large pitcher of something that could have been urine. We kept walking, don't make eye contact was a good rule out in these parts. Vendies weren't the really dangerous ones, just truly annoying.

For the first few blocks I was a bit surprised to see a couple shops still open. One was a fish & chips place with the old UK flag hanging above the door. The other place was actually an outdoor place under a tent, from the smell they were selling fish cake and other thing on sticks. I could hear the K-pop rocking inside, as if they wanted to block out what was happening outside.

We were much faster than I thought possible. This was always a bad sign in my experience. It usually meant some worse than normal terror was waiting for you up ahead. Like when the birds stop singing in a forest because you were too close to a bear or something. Maybe that only happened in novels.

"How far?" She asked, sounding tired. I mean, what did she misunderstand about "across town" exactly?

Suddenly we came to a pitch black intersection and nobody was in sight. The sound of the freak revelers was muffled and far away.

"We have to go back!" Mija said.

"Yes, we do." I answered, but it was too late. Behind us several hulking men with neon flat-top haircut sporting piercings all over and carrying weapons were closing in. One of them dragged an ax behind him, causing sparks.

I pulled Mija toward the center of the intersection. My instinct was correct, we were surrounded on all four sides by these thugs. A light came on from somewhere and illuminated several of the hulking guys and one tall but thin man. He had slicked back but thinning blond hair and he wore a purple trench-coat.

"Look what we have on the menu tonight." He said, his clean white teeth had been sharpened to points.

Then the expression on his face changed and he smiled. "Mija. Is that you?"

She stiffened. "Hey, Rodrigo."

"Does this guy have any idea what he's messing with?" The man asked, she looked down and to the right.

"It's pretty obvious, actually." I answered. "We're going on a trip."

The man laughed like a ninnying goat. "Oh, you are definitely going somewhere."

I dropped the bags I was carrying, my hands already lifting the Mag-shot. I see eyes going wide and then grins.

"You are very outnumbered." Rodrigo says.

"I can take most of you with me, then. Who wants to volunteer?"

Rodrigo laughed again. "Got eyes in the back of your head? You are completely surrounded."

I hear Mija drop her burden and the safety clicking off the handgun I had given her. "I''ll cover this side." She announced.

"Looks like Mija doesn't want to play with us tonight." Rodrigo said.

"I know what you are, Rodrigo, and I am never going there again." She said calmly.

Everyone calls them Specs. Not sure where that nickname came from but I assume it was because they had all worn sunglasses as part of their uniform once upon a time. You weren't too scary if you were blind most of the time, in the dark wearing sunglasses. The scary parts came after they dropped the shades.

These people believed they were the modern day vampires. They were cannibals who liked to trap their victims, beat them up and then take them for a home-cooked meal. They stayed in the shadows, instead of attacking the groups and crowds that gathered every night, they preyed on those who strayed.

The Mag-shot is a formidable weapon. It carried fourteen "rounds", but each round was a box of twenty-four small caliber bullets. It fired them all at the same time, ejected the box and moved another into place with the pull of a trigger.

Twenty-four slugs, even small .22's, makes quite a mess of a human.

The Specs backed up a bit. I picked up my bags with my left hand and threw them over my shoulder as I aimed the Mag-shot with my right arm. All I wanted to do was to get away from these insane people and get to my ship. I wanted off this dying world.

Suddenly Rodrigo pulls a shotgun from under his bright purple trench coat. I point the Mag-shot at him, he had trouble with the strap getting in his way, I fired. Rodrigo's body shuddered as twenty-four holes formed, center mass was around his sternum. Whether all twenty-four struck home is kind of immaterial, because he fell like a sack of potatoes.

The Specs screamed and hollered and ran in all kinds of directions as if they had all gone haywire in the head at the same time. It reminded me of monkey tribes on the old nature programs, I wanted to get away before the poo was slung. I took advantage of the confusion to pull Mija and run towards the original destination across town.

We ran several minutes before I pulled her into an alley for a breather. I suddenly felt her staring at me and I looked up. "What?"

"Everyone knows me. I have a reputation. I can't live here now, they'll connect me to Rodrigo." She told me. "I don't know what to do."

"You can come with me. Like I told you before. To a world much better than this one." I told her, taking another breath. "You might have to learn how to live like normal people, but it's better than being here."

The blank look on her face told me she had no idea what I was calling "normal".

"Let's just keep moving." I said.

Eventually we somehow arrived at the warehouse in the abandoned section of town. Most of the warehouses and factories were home to derelicts and homeless people. The one we came to was surrounded by a high fence with absurd security precautions.

I punched in the code at the gate and it swung open. We closed it behind us and then there was a second code. It was the same as the first but backward, if Carlos had told me the truth. I admit I was surprised when it also opened. Inside the warehouse looked like it was in good shape, but getting to the center meant going through a maze of containers and large machines.

Then we found what we were looking for. A Helix-class Jump ship. A short range transport vessel with four seats. It was covered in dust but it looked like it was all there and in working condition.

"A spaceship." Mija said. "Wow."

"Yes, these were built to take people to space stations and to the moon. We have to go a lot farther than that, though." I told her, "We have to sneak through the chute."

She shook her head. "That sounds dangerous."

I nodded. "Staying here is worse."

The side of the cockpit slid open on command. We stow our luggage in the two rear seats, belting them into place. Then I sat in the pilot seat as she sat next to me.

"Will it fly?" She asked, sounding excited.

I was still activating the CPU. "I'm going to find that out soon enough."

After a few minutes of fiddling with the computer I finally had the thing up and running and everything was working. The top of the warehouse above us opened up on command, although slowly and with loud creaking noises.

The engines whined as they spooled up. Mija was started to look a bit scared.

"Hang on, we're about to launch!" I tell her. She grabbed the rail above her with her left hand and the one on the dash with her right.

I release the Grav-lock and the ship moved straight up very quickly. This is the speed that we entered space with.

"Oh my!" Mija said, about a hundred times.

We were in space. I charted a course for the only transfer station that was still operating and with only a skeleton crew. Earth had very little trade and tourism with the other human settled worlds, it had very little to offer.

There was a large transport ship waiting for the chute to be activated. It looked like some sort of cruise ship with all of the transparent blisters along the side. People must pay big bucks to take a cruise through the Sol system seeing the pretty planets of our origin.

I "parked" very close to the cruise ship. The computer connected to that of the transfer station with some difficulty. Apparently the software was a hundred updates behind the times.

"What's that?" Mija asked, I look up to see the chute turning different colors.

"Almost time to go!" I tell her. I notice the slightest movement of the cruise ship and then I punch the accelerator. Our tiny Helix would barely register on the mass scale, which was good. Too much mass passing through the chute at one time and goodbye Milky Way, we'd be exiting in hundreds of different directions.

We went through at the same time as the cruise ship. The impact on us was more than it would be on the larger ship. By the time we woke up the cruise vessel had moved at least a few parsecs. In front of us, though, was a colonized blue-green world. One scan told me that this was it, this was Proximus, home of one of the colonies I wanted to live in.

"Mija." I said to her as she ogled the world we approached.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Do you think you could wear normal clothes and get rid of some of those piercings? I think it'd be a good idea for us to fit in." I say. "Might want to wear a hood over that bald head."

She put her hands on the top of her head. "What's wrong with my head?"

I laughed.

End.

### When the Tardigrades Came...

They said they came in peace. You know, the usual beginning to a bad science fiction movie or something. In films and television shows the aliens always either looked exactly like us or like people with some Hollywood make-up on.

Not so in real life. Not even close.

The best description was one that floated to the top immediately after they became public. These aliens looked exactly like five-foot-tall tardigrades. Yes, those things. Eight limbs, tiny eyes, one big mouth or whatever in the center of their faces. Exactly like the microscopic tardigrades, except huge. Although, I will admit their babies (early molters) are kind of cute, in a way.

They came to Earth and immediately adopted our culture and ways of life. I don't live in major city, so besides online, the first time I saw one in person was at the Supermarket. The female (I assume because it was wearing a summer dress) was shopping and buying normal items like bread and milk, a baby was in the baby seat demanding candy.

It was a bit surreal. Within a couple of years there were several dozen of their families living in my town, clustered between the river and the flour mill. Some of them acquired jobs in town while most were on government assistance programs.

Still, they had adopted our customs a little too well, a little too quickly. I found it unnerving and it wasn't xenophobia or anything. I brought this up when my best friend Kyle came over for a beer in the backyard.

"There is just something about them that is bugging me, and I can't figure out what it is." I told him.

He nodded. Kyle was a bit strange himself, wearing his hat and sunglasses on the back porch even though night had fallen. "I know, but don't let anyone catch you saying 'bug' about them in public."

I sighed and shook my head. "You know what I mean. Isn't it a bit too perfect? The way they came here and integrated into our culture?"

Kyle set the beer down on the little table between us. "I know what you mean. It's almost like they're mocking us or something. I swear I saw an online video of one of them twerking, not pretty."

Kyle is a bit weird, did I mention?

Recently there had been accusations that almost half the newcomer aliens were welfare bums, and that this was not the part of the culture that should have been adopted. Those who said these things were shouted down and berated by television anchors, some of them lost their jobs and ended up on government watch lists for expressing their opinions.

The only thing that seemed different about them, besides their appearance, was that they all belonged to the local Order. This was a strange and extremely secretive place where no human was ever allowed to enter. Some believed it had something to do with reproduction but others had strange theories.

They came here all dessicated and frozen aboard the Tun-ship claiming to have escaped the destruction of their home world by tyrants armed with nukes. Some of them worked as explorers because they could dive and walk at the bottom of the ocean, the water pressure did not bother them.

Unlike the microscopic creatures they resembled these large ones did eat and could not survive ten years without it, unless they were in their "Tun State". In their Tun-state they could survive for a decade like being in suspended animation.

Over the months their strange and defensive attitude about the Order locations gnawed at me. At first I had assumed their females didn't carry their babies internally and that this was what the Order buildings were for. Most people had assumed this.

One night, me and Kyle dressed in black. We had decided to sneak into the Order building and find out what goes on there. We found that the basement was divided into several chambers. One of these was a large tank of water, we assumed this was how and where they birthed their tardigrade babies. Not that we really had a clue.

The next was some kind of storage room. Crate after crate of unflavored gelatin, at least that was what the boxes said. Since microscopic tardigrades could survive for years without eating, we always wondered about the large ones that live among us. The big ones seemed to eat daily, officially we are told that they cannot survive long without eating unless they go into their Tun-state.

The last chamber wasn't empty. We walked in on something we should never have seen.

"Oh my god!" Kyle yelled. The four tardigrades standing around the table turned and looked at us. Their ugly proboscis opening and closing, swallowing the remains of one of their own kind. All of these things shopping at the supermarket and visiting restaurants were some kind of show... they were cannibals!

We were blocked from leaving by more of them and soon we were their prisoners. They locked us into a room that contained nothing but a table and some chairs. After a while one of them entered at sat on the opposite side of the table, a long-clawed guard stood by the door.

"I fear you have gotten the wrong impression about what you saw." The male tardigrade said, "Let me clear it up for you."

"You were eating your own kind." Kyle said.

"Exactly." I said. "Cannibalism."

If a tardigrade could sigh this one did. "You do not understand. Give me a chance to explain."

"So you can lie to us?" Kyle asked.

"If we wanted to hurt you, you would have never made it to that room." The tardigrade said, "We have no intention of harming humans."

I crossed my arms. "Your people are mostly still welfare cases. You need us right now."

"While that is unfortunately the case, I believe my people will be contributors to society in due time, but this is beside the point." It told us, "My peoples' DNA is made up of about 20% foreign DNA, which is a lot. Because we have the Tun-state and absorb foreign matter we are vulnerable to degradation of what makes us sentient. Our species has found that when we die, and we do die, certain organs in us can help sustain our DNA integrity."

Me and Kyle looked at each other, feeling uncomfortable.

"Look it up." The alien said, "The tardigrades on your world are the same, they are always changing, branches of the tree come and go. While adaptable and readily changing, they can find themselves burning out like a wildfire. Sometimes a slow evolution is preferable."

"So that tardigrade..."

"Died, of old age or something. The organs in question must be harvested and ingested immediately by the patients." It told us. "We thought it was better to keep all of this a secret, but I guess that might have been a mistake."

Me and Kyle glanced at each other again.

I answered the alien, "No, it's probably better kept secret for a good while. Let people get more acquainted and comfortable with your people being here before you throw that in their lap."

"And I want to apologize for thinking certain things." Kyle said, "Your arrival here has given my people advanced space technology and we should appreciate that."

I agreed, "Yes. If you guys hadn't come here, I might not be able to visit the moon next year. I've been saving up for that vacation."

The tardigrade sounded convinced. "I am happy that this matter could be cleared up quickly, I assume you two are tired and need sleep. You may go."

After we exited the building we ran as fast as we could. Then we settled down and stopped at a fast food place just opening for breakfast.

"This is seriously weird." Kyle said.

"Should we believe them?" I asked, "Still seems too easy. They wouldn't come right out and tell us a secret they've been hiding all this time like that."

"The truth must be much worse." He answered.

The nations of the world were busy building many copies of the Tun-ship. The tardigrades were basically running the space program these days. There were even tardigrade advisors to the President.

Kyle had that funny look in his eyes that told me a freaky conspiracy theory was being born, "You don't think they plan to pack humans on those ships and deliver us to their homeworld as food, do you?"

"You have seen too many movies." I told him. "They would need a lot more ships and, of course, a cookbook."

He laughed.

I laughed.

We couldn't eat the breakfast sitting in front of us.

end

## They said it was a clock

##

The little green-complexion boy said the strange device was a clock. That he had brought it to enter into the science fair competition. The boy was a new transfer and had been attending the school for only a couple weeks, so he didn't really have friends or a track record.

The Principal didn't think it looked anything like a clock. There were several strange gauges and dials, and the thing was a mix of brass and wood. Although the colors looked nice together the device resembled some sort of plasma weapon that the principal had found in a book once.

"It really is a clock." The boy said.

"Why is there a large clear vacuum chamber? Surely a clock doesn't need something like that." The principal said, "It doesn't appear to be a water clock or any other kind I am familiar with."

The boy shook his head. "It's not for telling time."

"Then what is a clock for?" the man asked.

The boy closed his eyes and rubbed his face. "It is an astronomical clock. You've seen those maps of the stars with all the constellations drawn on them? You realize those stars aren't even close to each other, right? Some of them aren't even stars but other galaxies. It's been done all wrong."

The principals face looked blank. "I see. I suppose you've worked it all out then?"

The boy sighed. "Yes. My device can measure the time differential between Earth and the other star systems."

The principal was quiet a moment. "Look here, young man, we have radio telescopes and astronomy satellites that can tell us exactly the distance in light years to those stars. Sounds like you have re-invented the wheel."

The boy nodded. "Someone has to invent the proverbial wheel on this planet, it's taking way too long."

"Explain to me what this contraption is for." The principal said, examining the device again, this time wearing his glasses.

"Using this device will allow human space travelers to chart the waves in the fabric of space that can be used to propel them on interstellar journeys." The boy told the man. "This stagnant human civilization needs a kick in the pants to get anywhere."

The man cleared his throat and opened a file. The boy gave the man a hard stare. "Where did you transfer from? Where are your parents? Says here, well, this is all gibberish. What did you say your father did again?"

Then the principal seemed to notice the boy staring at him. "It seems everything is in order, good sir."

"It is. Once I win the science fair, the whole world is going to know about this device and humanity can join us out among the stars." The boy said, picking up the device and opening the door, "Good day, sir."

The principal didn't seem to hear, he was playing with his cell phone. "Can I play a game, mommy?"

end

## Skyscraper Archipelago

I

Overnight New York City simply sank into the ocean. It was a complete disaster with hundreds of thousands feared dead, possibly millions displaced. There were about 200 buildings that could be seen above the new waterline, at around the 40th floor.

The rescue operations were mounted by ship, helicopter and boats. A massive number of rescue personnel, charity operations and media crowded onto the new coast to take part and see what there was left. There were some people alive in the office towers and high-rise apartment buildings that needed to be evacuated but the government declared the city off-limits to anything else.

A month later the sightings began. Bright beams of light rising from the water-logged archipelago of Manhattan into the skies. Unidentified Objects lowered through these beams and it was reported that the island-buildings had been invaded by aliens. The mass media was silent on this until the military began setting up staging points off the coast of New Jersey and points in New York that were now ocean-front.

"The Military has asked sight-seers to stay away from the area coast, citing ongoing operations. They do not ant to endanger civilians..." the reports were vague. No mention of aliens. Speculation that a training exercise was a cover-up for something bigger was rife.

They were trying to recover nuclear weapons now at the bottom of the ocean.... they were trying to keep a nuclear power-plant from melting down.... some high-ranking officials were still alive at the submerged UN compound.... all sorts of rumors.

Then the sides of some of the building showed huge gaps and there were things walking around in them, there were bright orange glowing things stretching between the buildings. Impossible to hide from the public at night on a clear day.

The team of five soldiers were wearing the latest in heavy armor and carrying very powerful miniaturized rail guns. These images were seen online. The men boarded a small boat and were ferried to the sunken city. They were seen by telescope climbing into the nearest building that rose above the new waterline.

"Jordan! You take point!" The Sergeant ordered as they moved farther into the office building. It was only several stories above the sea, it would be one of the easier searches. There had been no sightings in this particular building.

"Okay, this floor is clear. Take the stairs, Nelson you hold back a few paces and cover us." The order came as they reached the stairwell, broad enough for three people or two with armor. As they reached the next level something moved toward them.

"Incoming!" Jordan yelled and fired a three round burst from his gun, which missed the enemy and punched through the far wall and into the next building. It was loud enough for the report to be heard over two miles away on the shore line.

Jordan screamed and fell back onto the stairs, the Sergeant and Nielson had to move to the side to avoid being landed on. The entire front chest armor of Jordan had been ripped away along with most of his own chest inside.

Above them looking down with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth was something that resembled a hairless gorilla if it were light-blue and had an elongated neck. The creature roared and both the Sergeant and Nielson fired shots at it. It reared up on its hind legs like a bear. At the bottom of the steps Nelson joined in firing away with his own gun,

"It's not working!" Nielson yelled. "We have to get out of here!"

The Sergeant shook his head, "If we run, we are dead! At least we are holding it at bay."

Glenn had pulled Jordan down the steps to the landing where Nelson was standing. Jordan was dead, without a doubt, but they wanted to retrieve the body if possible. The creature turned and ran to the far side of the floor, the walls had all been destroyed. The only obstacles to see were the fifteen support pillars.

On the far side of the floor there was a huge gaping hole. The creature looked out and roared. They fired their weapons again but the rounds seemed to do little more than irritate the creature. When they saw an electric-orange "bridge" extend from the next building over, they knew they had trouble.

"We need to get out and nuke this place!" Nielson said, knowing that the creature was about to be joined by others of its kind.

"We hold our ground, soldier!" The Sergeant ordered, "Load your grenade launchers!"

Normal grenade launchers blew up and sent shrapnel in every direction. These were different, the newest thing, they exploded into a round ball of plasma. Seeing as how the power of the rail guns had little effect, this was their step up.

Three more aliens joined the first, two of them were bi-pedal in that they walked on two legs instead of four. The alien foursome began rushing toward the humans, still crowding the stairwell.

"Fire!" The Sergeant yelled and four grenades were launched. One of them hit the ceiling too far away from the aliens to do much more than make a hole to the next floor up. One of them flew clear past the onrushing aliens without hitting anything. The last two struck aliens, causing them to swell up like balloons as the plasma expanded inside of them.

One of the aliens stopped and dropped to the floor. The other limped ahead, clearly injured but still alive.

"No way!" Nielson said, "How"

"Back down the stairs!" The Sergeant said, "Get on the boat and move!"

Glenn abandoned the body of Jordan as Nielson and Nelson ran by him. The Sergeant stayed behind as even more of the aliens crossed the bridge. Manhattan was infested by these monstrous creatures, he thought to himself, better to just nuke it. The politicians would disagree. They'd send more troops, they'd bomb, they try and make contact and get a lot more people killed before they came to their senses.

One Year Later

"Hello Ladies and Gentlemen. I am your host Rod Travers for this excellent episode of _Hunting The Hunters_. As you decided last week, the new hunter team will be led by Will Marshal, one of the top gamers of the World League. Today, he goes into combat for real." The host announced to a worldwide audience. "The Manhattan Archipelago is the most interesting hunting grounds on Earth, with humans hunting the aliens that hunt them."

Nobody knows why they came. Why they sank a major city into the ocean and moved in. Trying to talk to them has been useless. The navy and air forces contain the area, but the alien beasts have shown no desire to leave.

Now they have a worldwide reality show where contestants, chosen by viewers, are sent in to hunt the aliens. Diplomacy is useless, nuclear destruction unthinkable, so of course it because a ratings hit.

Kill and alien and survive, the prize is very big. Don't survive and the money goes to your next of kin or spouse. Most of the hunters had been killed, but the government allowed the hunting to continue because the networks paid a huge sum up front.

Will Marshal eschewed the armor and the high-tech systems. He simply wanted to carry his 50 caliber rifle and be dropped off by helicopter on one of the taller buildings where the aliens congregated. The program had assembled a team to go with him, including a small-town sheriff and a housewife from Ontario.

"They look like dinosaurs." Gregory Hurst said, one of the producers, reviewing the footage from earlier trips. "They look different than they did when they first arrived."

Lisa James, an associate producer, smiled. "That is good angle. The creatures might be evolving, changing. How does a hunter prepare for something they've never seen before?"

"It doesn't matter what they look like. I'll kill them." Will Marshal told them, "So what if they're shape-changers?"

The government liaison had been asking for the show to find a real hero that can drive up ratings and Will Marshall might be the one. He was not just a stereotypical nerd living in their parents basement, he was a young, good-looking guy who had some experience with real weapons.

"This guy can become the face of _Hunting The Hunters_!" the saying went around. Sponsors had shown up, even more than when he had done some professional gaming. Will Marshall had a million dollars in contracts before he ever stepped foot into the Manhattan Archipelago.

"Hans has a flame thrower. Mikhail has his mines. Anders has his guided bullets. Tokyo has his drones. I have my electrical rounds. We can't lose." He said defiantly for the cameras. The international team led by pretty boy Will Marshall were global media sensations. These heroes would step fourth to hunt down the alien invaders. They would do what the governments have declined to do.

"Time to go!"

II

Each member of the team wore body cameras and the production crew had small and tiny drones that would send live feeds back to the networks. Will Marshal and the others boarded a fancy hovercraft that would move them swiftly into position.

"This is your host Rod Travers. The team led by Will Marshal is moving toward the starting point but before they arrive I want to show you a snippet of a Q&A session with this new hero. Roll that tape."

On the screen the host and Will Marshal sat facing each other in a darkened studio.

"I have a few questions that your fans have suggested. They would like to know what you think the odds are of you surviving this trip?" Rod Travers asked, leaning forward with a slight smile to suggest this was not his question.

"Oh, I think it far exceeds ninety percent. If worse comes to the worse, I'll dive into the sea and take the metro home." Will Marshal said and flashed a bright smile.

Rod Travers nodded and then checked the notes he was holding. "My second question is a hypothetical one. It's been about a year, what do you think the aliens want? Will their ships come back?"

Will Marshal lost the smile. "I don't think there is any way to know their goal, yet. I'm sure the ships will come back, assuming they ever left. They might be hanging around up there."

The interview vanished and a closer view of the hovercraft from the air appeared on the screens of those watching.

"Back to a live look. The team is nearing the starting point. This time they will start at the Redstone Hotel where it's heliport barely rises above the water. The larger tower rises another ten stories giving plenty of space for the aliens that might be there." The voice of Rod Travers explained as the hovercraft slowed and then stopped, settling into the water as it barely bounced off the wall.

Crew members of the hovercraft held it there against the building while the team disembarked. The plan was for the hovercraft to stay two hundred feet or more away, waiting for the retrieval signal to be sent.

Mikhail Khabarovsk was a large and powerful man, he carried the most equipment despite carrying the fuel for his flame thrower as well. Anders Lang carried a gun that fired rounds that could change course, at least slightly, depending on the distance to the target. The young Japanese man who had refused to give his real name had constructed a couple of armed drones.

"The four young men from different parts of the world have climbed up to the heliport atop the smaller wing of the Redstone Hotel. They seem to be checking their equipment and planning some strategy before the enter the taller wing." Rod Travers commented. "Before that we have time for a little Q&A with the biggest man there, Mikhail Khabarovsk,"

The camera cut away, back to the dark set where only two seats are illuminated. This time the large Russian was sitting in the seat.

"Mikhail. There are plenty of rumors about the aliens. One of the most prevalent is that there are governments who know all about why they are here. Do you think it is possible that government agencies might have made deals with aliens?"

The large man smiled. "I'm Russian. Our government is famously corrupt and has always been since long before the Tsars. Of course I could believe it, but I would need a little more evidence."

"Why do you think the aliens have been allowed to stay? Why hasn't the government of the US taken out these buildings with their submarines or through aerial bombing?" Rod Travers asked,

A voice from off-camera said something unintelligible, both men looked over in surprise. "I guess we'll move on..."

Then it cut away back to a live shot of the men walking into the taller section of the Redstone Hotel. Then showed the images from their body cameras and helmet cams.

The voice of Rod Travers commentated over the scene of the men walking through a shady corridor, getting darker the further they walk inside. "The aliens use some sort of electrical bridge to move between the buildings. You've seen them, they glow a bright orange. These aliens do not even attempt to evade detection. They are not trying to hide."

They are walking through a wide corridor when double doors in front of them explode across the hall and shatter against the far wall. One of the aliens was quickly in front of them, it looked like a small Tyrannosaurus Rex. It roared at the humans before Mikhail opened up with the flame thrower.

"Burn in hell!" The Russian yelled in clear English as the alien squirmed and moved away, seeking some relief from the pain of the flames. Then it whipped its tail and the Russian was flying backwards, landing awkwardly on his rear end. Something flashed over him and he heard loud gunshots and the alien moved away.

It was Tokyo, he had sent a drone against the present enemy.

"Back this way!" Will Marshal took the initiative. Some of the natives had taken off. "We need to get out of here."

Before they even attempt to make a mistake another alien was blocking the corridor they had just come down for. Now they had aliens on either side of them. Occasional shots from Will's micro rail-gun at the two-legged creature proved it didn't do much damage to them.

Mikhail shot flames at the second alien and it backed up warily. It wasn't afraid of the fire enough to actually run away though. "These weapons aren't powerful enough!"

Tokyo guided one of his armed drones to a large hole in the wall, outside it found an intact fire escape that went up a couple of stories. Not much else was left besides that one part of the old fire escape.

"We can go up through that." The Japanese man told the others.

"Once again, the weapons seem to be ineffective against the aliens." Rod Travers was explaining to the global audience. "The team has left the floor through a hole in the wall and have moved up to a new level on a fire escape."

"These aliens aren't the ones who build star ships, these are just monsters. Did they get put here as a dumping ground?" Anders asked as they climbed the fire escape. He was the last one up, covering the rear of their group.

"Is this really the time to ask these things?" Will asked, aiming his combat rail gun rifle into the opening of the higher level. He didn't see much inside of the building. A few of the walls were still partially intact.

"Unwanted pets maybe?" Mikhail asked, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hey, Tokyo. Send one of your drones in there." Will said without looking back.

The viewers then heard the amused voice of Rod Travers again. "The mysterious member of this team calls himself Tokyo. Maybe that is where he's from, unless he's from Osaka and is trying to mislead us. Naw, that couldn't be."

"Over the past fifty episodes of _Hunting the Hunters_ we have seen one and thirty contestants lose their lives in the quest for glory. Not all of them die as gruesomely as Henrietta Hilton did, you'll recall she was the one impaled on alien tusks." Rod told the viewers, "Very few members have managed to kill more than a single alien beast before retreating or being killed. Only one team has managed to clear a small building. That was the one where Clay Athens became a short-lived hero to many. He didn't last long in the second building though."

One of the network camera drones had entered the new level with the team. It was very small and very quiet and the members tended to ignore them.

"I think I might not have had good judgment when I signed on to do this." Anders quipped as they carefully walked down a corridor and checked the "rooms" on either side. It was easy because most of the walls were shredded.

"They've been here for a year and nobody knows if these things sleep, what they eat or anything. Doesn't anyone else find that strange?" Will Marshal asked. "We've been monitoring with drones all that time and know nothing. I think someone knows. Someone has to know something."

"It always comes down to some government conspiracy, doesn't it?" Mikhail asked, "I'm as jaded as anyone, I blame the government for everything. I just don't see how they had anything to do with aliens being put here."

Tokyo was still controlling the drone ahead of them. "I suppose if they were in contact with aliens, they could have contracted to accept these things. Now what price do you suppose they would ask for that?"

"Technology?" Anders asked. "It's all I can think of."

Of course none of this exchange had been broadcast, Rod Travers had been given the signal to speak about something else.

"Something weird just happened! This is big!" Travers announced. Producers Gregory Hurst and Lisa James appeared in the studio, just to get a closer look at the large screen.

"It appears that some sort of dome has encased the buildings. Some kind of transparent dome has been erected. I have no idea who or what kind of technology would be involved in this." Travers admitted to his audience.

They cut to a live aerial feed.

"There has to be someone in the government who can tell us something." Gregory Hurst said and then pointed to some of the staff behind the camera, "Get in touch with all of our contacts, this country or the Russians and find out if there have been any alien ships detected lately."

"Do you think the aliens that dropped off these things would come back?" Lisa James asked.

"Why? What would be the point?" Travers asked them, getting ready for his next appearance.

The feed now cut back to inside the building where the hunting team entered a new chamber and found a snake-like alien creature, glowing like a neon sign, coiled up at the center. It opened his massive maw, exposing hundreds of sharp teeth, and hissed at them.

"This thing looks like a snake. If it is coiled up like this, that makes me think it might have eggs that she's defending." Will Marshal said. "We need to kill this snake, or get it to move so Mikhail can fry those eggs with a flame thrower."

Tokyo soon had both drones circling the room, the snake creature eyed them warily. It had struck at one of them and missed, but then stubbornly refused to leave the nest.

Will and Anders opened fire on the creature with their miniature rail-gun weapons. This just made the creature angry, as the wounds simply healed instantly. "Okay, Mikhail. Try the flame thrower, maybe we can make this mama move for us."

As soon as the big Russian opened up with the flame thrower the snake opened its mouth wide and excreted a shriek that had enough pressure to send the flames back at the humans. Mikhail was shocked when he found his sleeves and shirt on fire. He threw down the fame thrower that was now on fire and took the fuel container off his back and threw it.

"Okay, I guess we need a new plan." Will told himself.

Suddenly a blinding white light was everywhere. The team was backed against a wall, unable to see anything.

"What was that?" Anders asked.

"I don't know!" Will admitted.

"Could it have been a nuke?" Tokyo asked.

"We're still here, so I would say it's not a nuke." Mikhail told the young man.

Blinking the light out of his eyes, Will looked around. The snake had apparently climbed through the glassless wall and went upward. "I think we should follow it to the top."

Through the openings in the wall, Mikhail saw aliens on other buildings climbing the top of their buildings too. "I think following them is a bad idea."

"Something is definitely on here." Will told himself. "The only way to find out what is happening is to follow them."

"If all the aliens are going up, then the stairwell should be free." Tokyo admitted. He sent one of the drones up. From the returns it looked like the beasts were all heading up toward the roof.

"This is crazy." Tokyo said. "Let's get out of here."

Will Marshal dug out his communications device and tried to contact the guy on the hovercraft but there was nothing. "I don't think this thing is working."

Anders was looking out the hole in the side of the building. "Guys. You won't believe this."

A large spherical orb was hovering above the sea between them and the shore of New Jersey.

"They're back?" Will Marshal asked, looking around.

"Do you think they'd be upset about us trying to hunt down the beasts?" Mikhail asked in an amused voice.

"Tell me they didn't sink New York City just to use it as a kennel!" Tokyo said loudly, "Is this how aliens are going to treat us?"

"Nobody is going to remember us now." Anders said, to himself mostly.

"We have to end the regular program here it appears, for breaking news we now allow all of our international broadcasting partners to go to their own newscasts. We will continue to provide live feed from our cameras at the scene." Rod Travers reported to the viewers.

As soon as the studio lights dimmed he was approached by men in dark suits and sunglasses.

"Mr. Travers." One of them said, "The Secretary has some questions for you about some of the things you've allowed to be broadcast today."

"Me? I didn't do nothing."

"Just come along peacefully." The other man said.

...

A day later.

"We have breaking news. The President has reportedly made a deal with the aliens to remove the beasts and to restore Manhattan to its previous location above sea level." The news anchor reported, "A spokesperson for the White House told our reporter that efforts to contact and communicate with the aliens have been ongoing since last year when the incident first occurred."

"Sure. Whatever." Will Marshal said, closing the video feed on his computer.

end

## The First Gate

As expected the gate stations traffic control center made contact almost before he could see it. "You are the sixth in line, take a parking orbit 12 kilometers out. Your estimated through-time is 2 hours." The human voice said. The first human voice Gol Pratchett had heard since he had hastily left Charon Station a week ago.

A blue ring around the gate station appeared on his sensor screen. He tapped it and selected the option to take up this circular orbit. The computer complied as he rubbed his painful left shoulder.

Now just the wait. He glanced over to the empty co-pilot seat and sighed. Sheena should have been sitting there, she should be with him. Instead, she had shot him and tried to arrest him. Gol had never even suspected that she was some kind of undercover agent in the seven months he knew her. He fell in love with her and she had been acting the whole time.

The burn on his left shoulder was testament that he had been fooled completely. Gol had carried out the whole scam, done all the work thinking she was supporting him. She had never said she did, but she never voiced any disapproval or tried to stop him either. What kind of agent lives with a man for months and give him knowing smiles as he steals for her?

Gol had gotten away though. He had the loot and he had his freedom. Once he went through that gate on the Cert Line they might never be able to catch him. His biggest fear was that the authorities on the gate station had been informed, that they were looking out for him.

The more he thought about it, the stranger it felt. Who had she been working for? Sheena might not have been working for the authorities. The likelier explanation was that she was working for one of the crime families. Maybe even Vrabec himself.

Gol Pratchett winced at the thought. If Vrabec was after him, then getting far away and hiding was imperative. Vrabec wouldn't lock him up for criminal therapy, he just kills those who cross him. In the pit of his stomach something started hurting. If Sheena had been one of Vrabec's people, and they had found her, then Gol was going to be dead sooner than later.

The large ring of the gate flared into existence as it was reactivated. A small cargo cruiser was lined up next to it. When the traffic control center told the cargo cruiser to move forward it began inching toward the shimmering light of the circle. Then the front of the ship kissed the shimmering surface and the whole thing became a blinding white light, a mini-supernova. It stopped when the ship was fully passed through the gate.

The gate would need to cool off for a quarter of an hour at a minimum to even pass through a tiny ship, a passenger ferry was lining up with the gate to be next. Gol was informed by a message to the computer that he was now fifth in line and a new orbit was assigned. The ship moved itself as ordered.

Gol reached down toward the co-pilot seat and his hand stopped a few inches above it. The soft, furry Gnoble was curled up there, asleep. It was fully transparent now, he could never predict it's coloration. The creature had mourned Sheena for most of the trip but it was finally getting used to a new owner, or whatever it thought Gol Pratchett was.

The station was now requesting a full recitation of everything aboard the ship. It was such a small ship that it would hardly tax the gate technology at all, so this inventory was a pain in the end. The computer had most of the information. He was surprised that his small vessel was carrying 3 tons of water, it seemed like a lot since waste could be purified. Gol learned more about his own vessel reading that document.

That was a bit disturbing, the realization that he had thrown everything away and relied on the vessel to keep him alive and he had not taken the time to make sure it could. He had assumed the vessel was it good condition, but he probably should have made sure before the heist. He reached down and petted the invisible furry creature again, it was soothing.

The only human-controlled gateway in the galaxy connected to the Cert line, along which there were several stations and branches to other inhabited solar systems. Humans were newcomers to the galaxy but had spread pretty fast. Still, once you passed a few stations you might just find yourself the only human around.

Gol had crafted a plan a while back to take the loot and Sheena somewhere where human authorities would never find them. In hindsight this had been a really stupid idea, now he would run and hide alone and hope that Vrabec or whoever Sheena had been working for didn't think he would worth the trouble of hunting down.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Gol Pratchett tapped the screen as his vessel took the fourth slot. If Sheena had been working for a government, he would never get through the gate. He was sure they would have boarded his ship by now and taken him into custody. For the past week he had been monitoring the news feeds from Charon and nothing had been reported about the heist, about himself or Sheena.

Who had the power to keep something like this quiet? Certainly not the governing authority of Charon or the Plutarch Alliance. It had to be someone like Vrabec and none of the other crime syndicates had as big a footprint on Charon. Gol hadn't even considered all of this beforehand. It had never occurred to him that he would be robbed of the loot as soon as he got home.

The encased crystalline units that he had found were worth a fortune, but he couldn't sell or trade them in this solar system. The human governments had strict controls on them, making it illegal to trade or sell them except through bureaucratic channels. In the rest of the galaxy, though, they were freely traded like currency. Gol was rich once he made it through the gate.

Gol pet the Gnoble again. It was no longer invisible, more like a ghost of a cat-like creature. It was sitting up and looking around, probably looking for its former master again. Poor thing.

"Are you hungry? Emmerit, want some nim-nims?" He asked the small animal, it looked at him, closed its eyes halfway and showed its teeth. This was a yes. Gol stood up and walked the dozen steps to the galley and pulled the food from the third cabinet. Emmerit had belonged to Sheena, she had doted on it as if it were a real child. Gol didn't want to leave it behind with that mess.

It was self-defense. She had pulled out a weapon, told him that he would never get away with the loot and fired. His left shoulder had burned and gone limp. She had been trying to incapacitate him with a chest shot, he had ducked. He had ran to her and slammed into her before she could fire again, she had hit the wall hard, head first.

Gol hadn't waited around. He took the loot and the orphaned pet to the ship and left. He had filed the flight plan hours before and he kept the schedule to keep from looking too suspicious.

Gol thought he was doing it for Sheena. She had been playing him the whole time, probably intended to hand it over to a crime syndicate the whole time. He would have been in a cell before he woke up and Sheena and her boss would have the loot. It was a trick. They were playing the long con while he was the patsy.

They were third in line. There was a private yacht lining up for the pass through, much bigger than Gol's second or third-hand executive transport. Again, he wondered if the vessel would be able to do the job. It was made for in-system travel, for ferrying important passengers. It was not heavily armored, had no real armaments and the drive unit was not exactly interstellar class.

Nothing he could do about that now. Once he passed through the gate he would exit trans-space at Terminus. There he could make deals for some of the precious loot. He might even be able to trade up on the ship, if another vessel was available. After that, no one would be able to find him.

The Gnoble stretched out on the dash and then crossed over and sat on his shoulder. The station contacted him again after a bright light flashed from the gate.

"Take up a holding position at the indicated location, you are second in line for departure."

He breathed deeply. The crossing fee had been paid in advance, there was no reason for alarm. The crime syndicate hadn't informed the authorities and they hadn't caught up with him. He could make his escape.

The only vessel ahead of him was already lined up in the chute for departure through the gate. His estimated departure time was around twenty minutes.

"Communication request received." his computer said. Gol checked the reading. There was another ship trying to contact him. It was three ships behind him in the departure line. His first instinct was to ignore it, he reached to hit the decline button. Then he shrugged, they couldn't stop him anyway what was there to worry about?

"Open the channel." He told the computer.

Suddenly Sheena's face appeared on his screen. One side of her head had bandages, but she was still alive. "Gol! You can't just run away." she said.

"Watch me." He answered. The animal on his shoulder was now alert and looking around at the voice of his master, trying to find her.

"Gol, if you take off with that cargo we'll both be dead. Do you want that?" she asked

"You know what I wanted. You didn't care. Stop expecting me to care what happens after I leave." He told her. He was glad he hadn't killed her, even if Vrabec would do it later.

The screen changed to the face of a very large and gruff man. "Let us stop playing games, Pratchett. Once we are through the gate, I expect you to hand over the loot or the girl gets thrown out an airlock and you will be hunted down like a rabbit."

Gol cut the connection.

There was no way to unload the cargo for a good price in an hour, about the time for the hunter's ship to come through. Gol Pratchett understood that he needed a new plan. He checked the type of ship they were on and found it was a faster and better armored and armed vessel than his own. One that was made for interstellar travel.

Not that they could fire upon his ship at Terminus station without getting vaporized by the Tureans that owned it. The hunter would have to be polite, arrogant humans had a way of offending the various aliens and getting themselves killed. It didn't help normal humans that their reputation as a species was not good.

Especially the Tureans. They were a very formal species, respect and honor were their highest ideals and those who ticked them off had a habit of getting hurt. They didn't generally dislike humans as many species in the galaxy did. Having so much direct contact they understood that some humans were better than others.

His ship was now being lined up with the gate. Gol was nervous and excited about his first time passing through. He was also nervous because there was a hunter on his tail. There was a bright flash, everything looked like a photographic negative and just moments later he was in a different part of space.

Terminus station was larger than he had imagined.

"Greetings and salutations, human vessel. Please follow indicated route and dock at port twenty-four and welcome to Terminus station." a strange voice told him. "We are pleased to have your business."

Finally the idea for a new plan starting forming in his head.

"Emmerit, I bet you can't wait to see mommy again, right?"

END

## Forest of the Genres

"This is a stupid argument." Delia said.

"I swear, I saw it." Roger told her, sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast as normal.

"They do not exist. They cannot possibly exist." She answered.

"It was a zombie. Just like in the movies." He said.

"Okay, answer this question. If Zombies eat brains, then how does a brainless body become a zombie?" She asked him. "It can't."

"I didn't ask." He admitted. "I don't think it could talk."

"It would rot within days and then no more zombie." Delia said and laughed. "This prevents any zombie apocalypse even if it was real."

"It was a zombie." Roger said, sure of himself.

"Okay, describe it." Delia told him.

"It had one arm, a bad limp, a bloody face, a rasping moan and glassy, unseeing eyes..."

Delia rolled her eyes and sighed, "How would you know if they were unseeing?"

He shrugged.

"Elderly amputee stroke victim, fell down hard on his face. You should have called an ambulance instead of running away." She told him. "Shame on you."

Roger shook his head. "No way. It was definitely a zombie."

"Yet, no zombie outbreak. You left a poor stroke victim in the woods two days ago. You'd better hope nobody finds out when they discover the body." Delia said. "140,000 people die annually in this country from strokes and how many zombies are there every year?"

"Nobody knows. It's covered up." Roger said, defensively, playing with the remaining cold scrambled eggs on his plate. This made Delia guffaw in exasperation.

"Okay, come with me. Let's go back to that place and see what we find." Roger said. He finished off the last remaining orange juice. "You and me."

She thought about it. "I don't know if I want to find that poor man's body though."

So they climbed into the pick-up truck and drove toward the forested area near the levee in the flood control area of the city. To get there they had to pass over the old wooden bridge that the local preservation society had adopted to maintain.

"Such a pretty bridge." Delia said leaning on her husbands shoulder. "Kind of romantic in the moon light."

"It's a full moon, though. There might be some crazy people out and about." Roger answered, "I'm trying to drive, don't lean against me."

He had pulled off the road and onto a dirt road and the forest loomed ahead of them. "This is it." He said, "Should we walk?"

She shook her head looking at the wall of trees and bushes ahead in the headlights. "I think I changed my mind."

He handed her a flashlight and took a bigger one for himself. "There's nothing here that isn't here in the day time, babe. We'll stay together the whole time, okay?"

They entered the woods, Delia stayed right next to her husband. His warm shoulder against hers was calming. He was tall and strong and he was very alpha at the moment in her eyes.

Something made noise to their right and they both shined their flashlights in that direction and saw a rabbit.

"It's just a rabbit." He told her, as they continued walking deeper into the forest. "I didn't think they came outside at night. Guess I was wrong."

"This place feels very weird." She said. It felt like she was dreaming even though she could feel the occasional stone beneath her running shoes and the breeze on her face as they walked. There a faint blue light coming from their left but it felt like it was far away. "Maybe it's the light of the city", she thought to herself.

There was a moaning sound. Both of them froze. It didn't seem to have come from any particular direction. She leaned on him even more. Then in front of them the grass and bushes were being trampled and a dark shape was moving toward them.

"I should have brought a weapon." Roger said, thinking these might be his last words. The shape emerged from the shrubbery and into the light from their flashlights. The horrible countenance of a giant furry beast was before them. It lifted its head and gave a shrill cry that made their blood run cold.

"Big foot?" Roger whispered, "Seriously?"

It took a step toward them and it came to the couple to flee but they were both too scared to move, their legs felt like dead weight. Just then another higher-note scream came from their right and a shape darted straight at the hairy beast and tackled it. The new shape looked almost like a man in tattered clothes but it had rabbit-like ears and two large fanged teeth.

It stopped battling the big foot for a moment to look at Roger and Delia and said, "You can run away now."

As if this freed them from being spell-bound they both turned to run but within several feet found the way blocked by the diffused blue light and shadows the shape of small creatures walking amongst it.

"Aliens?" Roger wondered out loud. Then he pulled her to the left.

"What's going on?" She asked, confused.

"Genre-creep!" He answered her, running out of breath as they moved. "It looks like the fiction shelf all melted together in this forest."

"That's insane." She told him.

"Zombies, were-rabbits, big-foot, aliens... who knows what else, how else can it be explained, Delia?" He said, stopped for breath.

Before the big flood of 1993 this area had been next to an annex of the city library but had been demolished for the expansion of the flood plain. The forest had been considered part of the city but had been totally abandoned.

"It's like the ghosts of the old library annex still lives in the forest." She said, "Like some kind of ghost or another dimension."

Then another voice said, "Sounds serious. Maybe I can help you with something, Delia?"

She shined her flashlight at what turned out to be a handsome man dressed all in black but his face had a shiny complexion. The man spoke, "I can keep you safe, forever, Delia. Just come to me."

Delia was mesmerized and took a step toward the man, who smiled. Then another light shone on the handsome man and she heard Roger yell, "Vampires don't sparkle!"

Roger grabbed Delia's hand and pulled her in a different direction. Some tree branches in the way caused her to hold her hand up and block it. She came away holding a switch. When they paused again she laughed and swished it and said "Abracadabra."

A flash of lightening exploded from the tip of it and destroyed a tree in front of them. They were both startled and grabbed each other. Somehow past the downed tree they could see the shadowy shape of the truck.

"Thank goodness." She said. They began walking toward the truck and soon left the forest behind.

They climbed into the truck and just sat a moment watching the dark forest in front of it.

"How many genres did you count?" He asked.

"Several of them, but I wasn't thinking about it." She answered, "Why?"

"Something was missing." He answered. "I guess if we had stuck around longer, we would have seen a lot more."

"I think we saw enough for one night." She answered, "I want to go home."

He turned the key in the ignition but nothing happened. The headlights and interior lights had come on but blinked and then died again. Suddenly the car was bathed in light from above.

"But we already saw some aliens!" He said. Suddenly some kind of space ship landed next to them, not a saucer but a boxy shape. The side opened up and armor-suited guys carrying big guns exited and looked around.

"Space marines." Roger noted, "My favorite."

Except that the truck had been surrounded and the guns were all pointed at the couple.

"What, no dragons?" Delia asked. Then she embraced her husband tightly.

END

### CRISIS

Location: Some misbegotten third world hell hole

A warehouse situated in the middle of a jungle was monitored by satellite and then by aerial drones before the decision to move in on the ground was made. The ACH-60 Silent Hawk helicopter cruised low over the top of the jungle, avoiding the occasional higher branches. On board were the eleven soldiers of CRISIS, a specially created unit outside of any regular military outfit.

The helicopter hovered a several kilometers to the west of the warehouse while two bundles were lowered and then eleven soldiers repelled down to the ground below. The soft dirt of the tropical jungle and the musty smell of decayed vegetation met the soldiers. The helicopter left.

"Okay, the target is a short march away. We need to keep ourselves aware, for all we know we are being monitored already." One of them told the rest, there was no insignia on their uniforms but his voice and demeanor was enough to show he was the one in charge.

The two large bundles were opened up and each of the eleven took up their own part of the burden, as they had practiced and trained to do for months. The US military did not dare to carry out an airstrike against the target without permission, since relations were already rocky. They also did not want to inform the host country of the targets existence, since this would show they were being spied on.

The only option was a covert operation to neutralize the target. This had to be done with troops from outside of any normal military channel. Besides the advanced, stealthy helicopter and being launched from aboard one of the many amphibious warfare ships in the US arsenal this operation was totally deniable.

The eleven soldiers marched quickly but carefully. They monitored what lay before them using the drones that orbited above. Nothing was stirring at the warehouse as far as anything could be determined. Electronic signature and com chatter from the target location was non-existent. It was as if the place was closed for a holiday.

"Okay, team two circles to the rear. Set up your cover as soon as you arrive." Their leader told them and five of the soldiers saluted and moved away through the dense foliage of the jungle.

Then the leader approached one of the soldiers who was setting up a camera-sensor package aimed at the warehouse as well as a mortar. "I want to get a look inside if I can." He told one of the soldiers, who quickly dug into his pack and came out with a chrome case.

Opening the case he took out a small bug-like object. This was a drone, one of the smallest ever made that carried a camera. Hardly bigger than the dragonflies it resembled, the small drones was made to fly outdoors even in wind gusts. After setting up the monitoring equipment and screen, the drone launched into the air on flapping wings and moved toward the warehouse.

With a close up view the drone moved around, looking through windows and for any opening that might allow it to get inside. Finally the operator made it check the ceiling where it found several openings, these seemed to have been meant for ventilation. The bug-like drone entered the warehouse for a good look around.

"I don't see any movement." The soldier operating the drone said. "But there are a lot of crates and silver capsules against the wall."

The leader of the unit nodded. Those metal capsules were the reason for this operation. Actually, what was in them was the reason for it. This warehouse was the den of a terrorist supply operation that sold these things to any group no matter how awful their goals or plans.

The small drone flew over a partial wall that divided the warehouse into two sections. There were more capsules, some of them were open and empty. There were several tables in the center of this area, lying on three of them were humanoid shaped robots.

The leader frowned and closed his eyes. He remembered the first time he had seen one of these things in action in old Los Angeles. The mechanical monster ripped through flesh as if there was no resistance at all. Bone and stuff usually slowed down a knife, but not if it was wielded by these things. It had moved so fast that it was impossible to aim a gun as it sliced up people in its path.

When it did stop the police issued 9 millimeter pistols did nothing to it. Shotguns were as useless. When the SWAT team was brought in, the thing had taken to crashing through walls and going from building to building without coming out into the open for the snipers to get a bead on it.

It had reached an area shopping center between a busy mall and a school. A nightmare was unfolding for everyone involved. Finally the governor had gotten through to the President who resisted getting involved until he turned on the news and saw the bodies spread all over the place.

A flight of jets had come in low and a series of 250-lb bombs had laid waste to the shopping center. Army vehicles and troops surrounded the site while the mall and school were evacuated. They sifted through the rubble before confirming that the blood-thirsty robot had been destroyed. It was immediately sent for intense study.

"This was a terrorist event. We will find those who built and sent this machine to kill. We will find those responsible and we will stop them." The President had said later in a nationally televised speech about the deaths of 300 people in Los Angeles.

It had only been the first of many such incidents around the world. International cooperation determined that existing terror organizations were buying these robots from somewhere. All of the robots had been essentially the same, although some had been used as walking bombs while others killed with firearms or swords.

The Criminal Robot Interdiction Specialized International Squad had been formed as soon as governments got around to understanding what they were dealing with. Unfortunately most countries were now so afraid of the terrorists that they refused to cooperate. At least officially.

The team leader watched the warehouse, it felt wrong.

"It looks like everything is clear." One of the soldiers said. "Looks like none of the robots are activated."

"That would be too easy." He responded.

"Mama Bear." One of the soldiers spoke into a satellite phone. "Everything looks clear. We're proceeding with caution."

All of the video and sensor information they collected was being bounced off a satellite down to the amphibious warfare ship two hundred miles off the coast. The ship was being used as the command center for the whole operation. If it was needed there would be a half-dozen F-35B's on the way within minutes carrying bombs to eliminate the warehouse. It would be a diplomatic disaster, but this warehouse needed to be destroyed.

"We need to get in and find out who is behind this." The team leader said. This was their primary mission and even though it might be a trap, they had to do it.

The team leader activated his radio. "Prepare for breach."

Two men on each side of the warehouse carefully approached the warehouse to doors. Once there they stood about ten feet in front of the door and pulled out a black cylinder about two feet long. The soldier held it in front of him with handles on either side. Once the designator highlighted the door it fired a burst of square metal bits that tore the door into splinters.

"Still no movement from inside." The soldier monitoring the sensors and camera feed said.

The team leader shook his head. "Okay, let's go in."

Five soldiers approached the front, led by the team leader. Four soldiers approached the rear entry. Each side left one soldier behind to act as sort of an over-watch, monitoring sensors and drone feeds.

The team leader and his four soldiers entered through the destroyed doorway and found themselves inside some kind of office. "Look for any files or computers." He instructed them. They opened every cabinet and drawer but there was nothing.

"It's been cleaned out." One of the soldiers said.

Team leader waved them to follow him. He opened the inner door and entered the main part of the warehouse with crates and pallets of equipment. Against one of the walls were a dozen of the metal capsules that the nerds called eggs.

"Prep those things for detonation." He told them and three soldiers ran to apply plastic explosive charges and wire them together. He wanted to get a better look around. The crates and boxes could be clues, they had to have been shipped from somewhere.

Before he got far there was firing and screams from the other side of the partition.

"We're under attack!" He heard in his earpiece.

"Let's go!" He said, pulling up his M-4z combat rifle that had been slung to his side. The others followed him, loading grenades into their rifles grenade launchers. They kicked the door open on the partition and entered.

Three mechanical terrorists turned their heads to look at the new intruders. Team leader only saw two of the other team in the far corner trying to fight off the attack. Two more lay on the floor, they looked like they had been flattened by steam rollers.

"Fire!" He ordered and the five of them opened up. The rounds weren't penetrating the robot hide and the enemy moved toward them.

"Grenades" He said and they all fired at the same time. The explosions tore two of the robots into scrap while a third was simply thrown against the far wall by the percussion. It still looked intact. Then it moved toward the dead humans and scooped up an M4 combat rifle.

"It's got a gun!" someone yelled and more shooting took place.

One of the soldiers on the other side went down, a red fog had erupted from his head. The last one slipped through the door and escaped. One of the capsules against the wall, which he had thought were the empties, opened and another robot joined the fray. It leaped right up to one of his men and began pounding his face with his metal hands like a jackhammer.

"Retreat, let's get out of here!" Team leader said. Then into his radio, "Mama Bear, we need some shock and awe."

They backed up while keeping their guns engaged. The robot with the gun shot down two of his men before he and two more escaped.

"Get away, now!" He said as they all ran through the jungle. The sound of incoming bombs flew over them and then the ear-splitting explosions rocked the ground they were on, throwing them off-balance.

In his ear he heard one of the pilots say "One bogey escaped the warehouse."

He rolled over and pushed himself up. He slipped another grenade into the launcher on his combat rifle and saw that two soldiers near him did the same. Team leader didn't know how many of his men were still alive at this point. It didn't matter anyway, until it was over.

Then he heard a loud noise to his right and saw that one of the F-35B had gone into a hover and was hunting the robot. It made him feel a little better to have some air support, even though the diplomatic blow-back from this operation was going to be huge.

"I see it!" He heard the pilot yell, then the externally mounted 25mm gun pod began firing at something. It must have been moving too fast for the aircraft because the pilot had to keep moving the hovering plane around.

Team leader gave the hand signal and the two other soldiers followed him toward the area where the robot might be.

Suddenly something reached out and struck the aircraft, one of the wings dipped low and clipped some trees causing it to slide into the ground. The engine of the crashed plane continued to whine as team leader and his men searched for the last robot.

"Prepare to fire your grenades." He told them. He knew the odds weren't too good, but he didn't want to leave that thing running around. It would eventually be sold to a terrorist group somewhere if they left it intact. He didn't plan to let that happen.

"Extraction flight inbound." He heard over the radio. The helicopter that had dropped them off was coming back to pick them up. This whole thing was a disaster, but the warehouse was destroyed with what might have been dozens of the robots. That was the good news.

Something flashed in front of him and one of his men fell to the ground, almost beheaded from a gash in his throat. Where was it? How could it move so fast in a jungle?

"We need to find it!" He said loudly.

"I hear something." The last soldier said and turned toward behind the team leader. The grenade was fired followed by rifle fire. "I missed, da..." he never finished before his body hit the floor of the jungle. The team leader turned and found himself nearly face to face with the killer robot. It moved it's arm and the team leader fell backwards and aimed his rifle.

BOOM! Team leader shit his eyes because of the loud blast. He felt air rush over his face. The robot was still standing there, sword in its hand. It turned around, its back was missing a lot of the armor plates and innards were exposed.

One of his soldiers had used the door breach gun to distract the robot. The technician who monitored the drones and sensors threw the useless shell down and pulled out his pistol. The robot started to move toward the technician bit team leader sprayed its back with M4z rounds and it stopped, then it fell face first to the ground.

"You got to get them before they move too fast." The technician said, sounding scared, as the whispering sound of the stealth helicopter showed up above them. Someone repelled down and looked around, "That pilot is still alive. Can you help me get him out?"

The F-35B engine had finally stopped, team leader had been too busy to notice. The plane had not exploded but it was mostly upside down. They had to dig below the broken canopy and pull the pilot from the wreckage.

"Fast movers are on the way to destroy this plane and hit the warehouse site again, just in case." The man told them as they prepared the injured pilot for his turn to be lifted into the helicopter. Then he and the technician were hoisted aboard. Other helicopters were inbound to recover the bodies of the fallen.

"We still have no idea who is behind all this." He thought to himself. "We eliminated the warehouse and the robots, but at a high cost."

This is not over.

END

### Dark Envoy

The fang-shaped black craft moved silently through space toward the moons of Rarvis, the third world in this solar system. The lone occupant of the vessel expected to be challenged at any time by the defense forces of Rarvis, but he had gotten a lot closer than he thought possible before being noticed.

Assuming they hadn't noticed was the flaw, of course. The Sartorian wasn't going to make the mistake of thinking Rarvis would be that easy a target. In fact he would assume they had been tracking him the entire time since dropping out of transit-space.

The phrase 'moons of Rarvis', while technically accurate, was a misnomer. There was one large moon hanging about but there were dozens of small ones keeping position with the big one while orbiting Rarvis. The Sartorian's passive sensors noted that there were indeed sensors embedded on most of these smaller rocks.

Now there was no doubt they were monitoring him. The defense systems on the large moon had not activated because they may have identified him already. That would be a bit disconcerting, unless they were not alarmed because it was just the lone ship. The Sartorian assumed they would never make that kind of mistake; just because you only detect one does not mean it is alone.

Old habits die hard and the Sartorian grinned. He wasn't here as a scout for the Great Fleet of Sarto, he was a civilian now, he was the Envoy.

"Sarto Vessel, Envoy Malok. We have been expecting you, please set in the follow coordinates and follow the traffic control beam to the appointed landing site." The communication burst had bluntly said.

As his ship passed the small moon he was finally contacted by the Rarvis security forces. The first communication told him they knew exactly who and what he was. How they had come by this information was a mystery. How his appointment as Envoy had reached them before his arrival was unnerving. Not just spies, but very fast and competent spies at that.

The Sartorians and Rarvisians were new allies. Although the relationship between the worlds was still quite rocky and tentative, it seemed to Malok that the Rarvisians might actually be worthy. Sure, he would look for any weakness that might be exploited, for those are the pitfalls of diplomacy. He would try to make peace and trade while looking for any way that Sartorians could come and take over.

The Rarvisians would no doubt be doing the same with Sarto because this was the expected path of diplomacy among all the known worlds. An Envoy was a diplomat, a spy and a possible enemy all in one. No world allow foreign worlds to have permanent diplomats and would never in a million cycles declare even a tokan of land to be foreign sovereign territory.

The ship followed the beam in. Malok found his ship moving over the expansive capitol city of Rarvis, mostly white and gray buildings of various size. He had learned nothing about their military abilities but they had shown off their intelligence gathering abilities. That arrogance seemed to be very contrary to the regular nature of Rarvisians. It could be some kind of warning that Sarto shouldn't take them lightly.

The landing site was a spaceport within the city. Possibly the city had grown and expanded around it over a long time. His vessel was moved to a parking location far from any other ship, of which only a few were in evidence.

Surface vehicles were parked nearby and he could see black-suited soldiers patrolling the area for possible saboteurs, rebels or dragoons from his own ship. The security forces seemed competent but sparse enough not be threatening. He could see a black turreted vessel in the distance.

A trio of white-robed people near a large-ish ground vessel walked halfway to his ship and stopped, as per protocol. He set the ship to explode if boarded and then left to greet the dignitaries who would accompany him to meet the leaders of Rarvis.

"Envoy Malok, I am Torin, the Grandee of the High Assembly. These are Minister of Stellar Semian and the Personal Secretary of the Arch himself, Garja."

The three Rarvisians were of the light-green variation and their scales were flush with their bodies and looked seamless. Almost an entirely different look from the average Rarvisian who were obvious reptilians. Maybe the idea that better looking people were more likely to get ahead was true even here.

The vehicle was comfortable enough but he couldn't see much of the city since it flew over the buildings and streets below. Soon it was setting down at a grand palace, the well-appointed and manicured grounds surrounded by high walls with towers.

Did the Rarvisian leaders fear their own people? That would be the sort of information that Sarto's Ministry of Intelligence would like to know. Malok wanted to be able to walk the streets, see the people and their conditions. Find out how if the government here was oppressive and by how much. Obviously every strong world needed to be a bit oppressive, but there was a point where this became a negative fr everyone.

He was greeted by other functionaries, exchanged pleasantries, at the palace and then followed them inside to meet the Arch himself. None of them would bring up the fact that they all knew who he was and that he had been appointed as Envoy. He wondered how much they knew about him. If they had send the information by trans-space probe at the time he was appointed, they might have had little time to do much research on his past.

If he could figure out where the holes in their knowledge of him, Malok might be able to use it to his advantage. This could be interesting.

The Personal Secretary of the Arch himself bowed to them and said he would inform his majesty that the Envoy had arrived. This was all protocol, the Arch had probably known since the second the vessel had landed at the palace.

The Rarvisians were putting up a front, that much was obvious to Malok. The more they continued this charade the more suspicious he would become. Malok rubbed his nose to hide a grin, it probably wasn't possible to get more cynical than what was needed to be an Envoy.

Besides the grim-faced soldier at the door, all the Rarvisians present were well-aged with the lighter shade of green and smooth features most desired on their world. He wondered how many of them were undergoing operations to keep their desirable features from fading.

Torin, who headed the High Assembly looked confident and in charge. This wasn't the Grand Assembly, this was not his turf. His casual manners, from what Malok knew of their kind, was pretty rude. Leaning back on the red couch and drinking a mix of vegetable juice and bugs while everyone was supposed to wait for the Arch to enter.

Possibly this Torin fellow was the real power or part of it on this world. Then again, maybe he had always been a slob. The Minister of Stellar, named Semian, seemed like an oaf. His only real job was appointing and receiving Envoys and overseeing the bureaucracy of their filings and reports. The blank stare of that one would indicate that he was someone else's puppet.

Rarvis could be exactly what they pretended but Malok was doubting that more by the moment. Finally the large double door on the far side of the room opened and two soldiers walked in and took places on either side. The Arch's Private Secretary entered and addressed the room.

"The Arch of Rarvis himself."

Malok noted that Torin was the last to stand, and he stood up slowly. He still held the drink near his chest. The man was being totally disrespectful for the occasion.

The Arch entered. Malok flinched but caught himself. This Rarvisian was emaciated, his head hung down in front of him as if the cape of office were far heavier than it looked. The others applauded his entrance, except for Torin, and Malok joined them.

"This is the Envoy from Sarto, your highness." The Private Secretary said, indicating Malok. The old Rarvisians head nodded and his glassy eyes darted around the room as he held out a hand. Malok took his hand and bowed.

"I am called Malok. I have been appointed as the Envoy to your world, your highness." He said as flowery as he could, noting that Talon had a derisive sneer on his face. No matter how many species he met, that derisive sneer always seemed to be the same as if it was the one constant in the universe.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance." The Arch said in a whispery voice. "Let us sit down."

Malok and the Arch sat on couches on opposite sides of a table but close together. The others sat around their leader, Torin sat on the arm on a chair on the far end.

"You must have come to finalize the agreement between our two worlds." The Private Secretary said and when Malok nodded his assent, it was whispered into the ear of the Arch. Torin was looking on with the look of a Ren about to feast on a fat field mog. That alone made Malok want to tear up the treaty and go home.

"This treaty obligates both worlds to support one another in cases of attack by the Raxis." Malok said, "They being the strongest and most malevolent species in the section. The treaty also opens up trade in certain agreed-upon goods and industries between our worlds. Who isn't always seeking new markets?"

"We must include the Minister of Protection and the Minister of the Mercantile in this meeting." The Arch said and then had a coughing fit. The Private secretary patted his back and then wiped the elderly Arch's mouth with a cloth napkin. None of the others seemed shocked by the convulsion but rather looked to see Malok's reaction. He kept his face impassionate.

"I don't think that is necessary, your highness. The treaty has already been negotiated to the satisfaction of all involved. All that remains is your imprimatur. It's all ceremony and formality." Torin broke in to add to the conversation, "Just sign it."

The blue carpet was well worn. The decorations on the walls were in no particular order but their locations made Malok uncomfortable. The fact that he was not allowed to see the city before coming to the palace had been a minor thing, but now he was truly curious as to what was being hidden.

The frail Arch was an obvious figurehead who seemed almost clueless as to what was going on. This Torin person was the one running the show from the safety of his own office.

"Yes, your highness, it only needs to be signed." Malok said, but then stood up. All eyes were on the Envoy as he crossed the room and removed a big painting from the wall. Nobody voiced an objection. Envoys had a lot of leeway. There were burn marks and projectile holes. He nodded and put the painting back.

"Would it be accurate to suggest that your economy is in shambles? The masses rebellious? That your defense forces that tracked me easily, might not have taken off to meet me as easily? That while your spies seem confident, the world I have been presented with is all a front?" Malok asked, the face of the Personal Secretary, Garja, looked away. The Grandee of the High Assembly glared at him with an iron face.

The Arch and the Minister of Stellar barely seemed to notice that questions had been asked. The other officials mingling in the background just watched.

"True enough." Torin said.

"I suspected as much." Malok said, turning towards the Grandee. "I want you to tell me the truth. I see too much front and little else. If you expect Sarto to come to your economic and military aid, we'll have to know how bad it is."

"Our poor planet is an easy target for Raxis, should they decide to strike. Rarvis would become part of their empire without a doubt." Torin answered. "It is in the interest of your world to keep that from happening."

"My world would expect concessions if we are to feed you and park ships here." Malok informed them, "There is a price for everything."

Torin put the drink on a table and crossed his arms. "What price?"

"Sarto would allow you to retain your own government, although the figurehead would need replaced with the real local power." Malok said looking into Torin's eyes. "We would need access to natural resources if we are expected to feed you and provide technical assistance to your farms. We would need to be able to train your soldiers before we would trust them with our advanced weapons. We'll let you keep down the rebellions on your own."

"Still better than what the Raxis would do to us." Garja said loud enough to be heard.

"Of course, the Raxis are monsters with starships. We Sartorians deal in reality, and the facts are that we must be able to put up a viable threat or the Raxis will strike. The stronger Sarto is and the more allies we have the more peaceful it is." he told them. Then he smiled. "This is to the benefit of every one."

Soon enough he was riding a ground vehicle through the dark streets of the decrepit city towards the executive spaceport. He was mentally formulating his report along the way. One of his most urgent things was to find and execute those spying for Rarvis. They were far too effective to be allowed to delve any deeper.

Too deep and it would cause problems. It would not for these subjugated worlds to learn that Raxis was also their puppet. It was working far too well to be allowed to crumble now.

END

## The Keepers

At the end of my long voyage I had reached my destination. The real quest was just getting started. In front of me was an enormous edifice. A building with wings jutting out in star-burst pattern from a central dome. It was probably the largest building left standing after the cataclysm. It had been untouched.

An etched sign against the wall said: Academic Matriculation Center.

I entered the foyer and removed my breathing apparatus and my heavy cloak. I hung these on hooks arrayed against one wall, mine were not the only ones so hung. There were dozens. It might be that some of these cloaks and suits had been hanging here for decades.

After that was finished I approached the broad double-doors. An elderly man with a long white beard in white robes with purple trim was standing there waiting for me. He was at ease and patient as if he had all the time in the world.

I approached him and gave a small bow, he tilted his head forward and closed his head. At his age, I supposed, this was a bow.

"My name is Joseph." I said, to introduce myself, "I have come a long way to see this."

He nodded slowly in understanding, but barely moving his head a centimeter or two. Still I felt like he also pitied me, all in just that movement.

"Follow me." He said as he turned around, the double doors opened wide by themselves, though they looked like ordinary wooden doors on ordinary ancient hinges. I followed him out of the cloak room and into a wide corridor.

I had assumed there would be rooms on either side but this was all open space. Against the walls on their side were bookshelves, filled with books. Invaluable books, a treasure on any world. So many books in one place made me gasp. These shelves were separated by tall white marble columns and divided from me by low white benches that also looked like marble.

"Each section of the bookshelves are divided by subject. This is why they are not all the same size." The elderly man said without looking back as we walked.

I was wondering why there was so much open space when I saw four younger people and an older person sitting in chairs in the corridor facing the bookshelves. None of them had crossed the benches to get one of the precious tomes though. Instead a holographic image projected above the bench where a scientist was conducting a chemistry experiment.

Keeping knowledge alive was the only purpose of this place. Only the people who really wanted to learn were accepted here. Those who did not want to learn would not stay anyway. There would be no real reason for them to stick around. Well, it was clean and they were fed, this alone brought many to pretend to want to learn. Very few stay long.

Our footsteps echoed in this place to my ears, but I was assured by the documentation that the sound does not carry far at all. The people sitting and learning could not hear me walking by even if I stomped, some of the rumors said. I did not test this theory.

Soon enough we reached the end of this hall. The double-doors opened for the elderly man and I followed into the largest room I had ever seen. It was as large as a stadium. A museum of the human race spread out across it, or more accurately _the_ museum of humanity did.

"Come along, if you want to hear the answer to your question, Joseph." The old man said. I followed a few steps behind but I marveled at the statues, the art and the ancient machinery that had been kept in good condition. As I watched youngsters, watched over by a woman, started up a steam-driven printing press.

Unfortunately we arrived at the next set of double doors before I could take it all in and they shut behind us. Again I was in a large hall, like a temple, with both walls lined with books. I could see groups of people sitting and watching holographic depictions of history.

"We are biased toward teaching history without bias. We try, although we might err occasionally." The old man said, an amused lilt to his voice, although I had asked no question. The man seemed to know the reason I had come here, although that should be impossible. Yet, I followed precisely because I thought he knew where I needed to be.

"How did you know..?" I said when he finally stopped and approached one of the benches.

He seemed to grin under his facial here. "It is a question that many have sought the answers to, Joseph, but most find that they wished they hadn't. The ones that stay choose to learn about unrelated subjects, seemingly to make themselves forget. This is futile of course."

I nodded. "There are ways to erase memories, but they are not delicate nor subtle."

He waved his hand above the white marble bench and a holographic menu appeared, it waited for someone to give it a command.

"This is the only alcove in all the complex devoted to the topic, Joseph. Do you wonder why something that destroyed human civilization would be given such little space or prominence?" He asked me. Then it occurred to me that we were at the far end of the Hall of History, right up against the wall and a hidden emergency exit. It was one of the smallest bookshelves a well.

I knew the answer. Like many, nay most everyone, I had pushed the facts away. I had wished it away and went on with my life. I had rejected it. It hurt to hear the question, my heart pounded, my stomach lurched and my eyes watered.

"People do not want to know." I answered with a halting breath. I breathed deep, like one might do after crying. I rub my eyes, making the tears go away.

"Why is that, Joseph?" The friendly, wise old man asked. He was unaffected by this, he had lived through this countless times, he knew what to expect. I felt it, the urge to lash out at him. As if this were fault, as if the feelings and emotions pouring into me...

That was wrong. They were pouring out of me. This was not some external pressure I was feeling, this was all from inside. Tears were flowing unimpeded now. I was looking down at the space between him and me, gasping, lip quivering and wanting to think about anything but this. Like a child outside of the operating room not wanting to know the fate of his mother inside, but knowing already.

We humans already know what we don't want to know. We want it to go away. I wanted it to go away.

"Why, Joseph?" The man asked again, ever impatient and calm.

I wiped my nose and tears. I did not want to look at him. I did not want to see the new images on the screen. I had saw them and rejected them already. They were part of the human DNA now, since the Burgeoning. Since humans had done whatever needed to be done to survive and to flee the awful truth.

"We did it." I said, "We all did it. Even though I wasn't but a baby, I did it as much as anyone. We did it all through history. Over and over we failed to hold it in check. Over and over we have sought to forget the truth and run away from it and we killed those who knew..."

He was quiet.

"We all did it. Every time civilization collapsed, we rallied just enough to start building again. Then we got to think ourselves better than that. We never were, we never were." I said, sobbing. I was sitting on the floor now.

"Why Joseph?" he asked, images of atrocities playing out behind him. "But why?"

Even if I admitted it, what would it change? I wouldn't be able to live amongst the new worlds knowing that I was wasn't like everyone else. Why had I come here? Why had I wanted to delve into the collapse of Earth? Why had I wanted to see what had caused the greatest suffering in history?

When I really knew it all along. Buried deep, deep inside.

"We're animals. We're not born innocent. We're never innocent. We are animals, the worst beasts that ever walked the Earth and the hundred worlds. Humans are not intrinsically good. Our default is greed and selfishness. Only with our minds and souls can we hope to control this." I said, drained of energy I just lay on the floor.

It was cool. Quiet. I wanted to sleep but the nightmares had already arrived.

"2109 A.D." the old man spoke up, and sounding a little preachy continued, "The human race finally did it. Again. They rejected any and all notions of right and wrong or morality. They embraced every possible evil and carried out these evils with enthusiasm. Humans were their own Gods!, they declared, but no, they were their own devils. The death toll reached more than half the human species within a year, within two years more than eighty-five percent of the human race was dead."

After a pause he returned to his quiet voice. "The remnant finally started to come to their senses, many still rejected of course. To their end. After seeing what they had done, the remnant closed off their minds and fled to the stars. Today, I wonder, how far away is the next collapse. And the next. For those societies who reject a higher reasoning, a higher morality and even a higher power are more dangerous than any fanatic who went off the rails."

"But is there a God?" I asked, I begged.

"Humans need God. It is now scientifically proven." The man answered, a twinkle in his eye. "Whether or not he exists, Joseph, humans need to believe in something more than their own base desires. Otherwise they become animals. Just a simple understanding there are things one must not do to another human being is enough, really. Yet, this is rejected over and over through time."

I had a lot to process.

He sighed. "Joseph. Humans wish to forget it happened. They always do. Even here, this is the least used portion of the building. In the old days they built new cities and empires atop of the old ones. Today they flee to other worlds. Flee from their own animal nature. Even those who ever think about it will lie to themselves that it can never happen again."

"I'm not sure."

He pointed at the holographic screen. I winced. Images of people tearing apart babies and covering themselves in blood during an orgy-rave.

"People become monsters. Evil becomes passé and a higher and worse evil is sought to quell their base desires. People need a reason to be civilized and over time these reasons are removed one by one, in the name of 'freedom' or 'fun' or any number of other things. It will happen. It will happen again and again and we can do nothing but fight it. Fight it like a candle in the night."

I bury my face in my hands. It's hard to accept. The horrible evidence is everywhere. It is still fresh, even if humanity has declared it to be unthinkable.

"Are you asking me to..." I take a breath "Go to the worlds and spread the gospel of civilization?"

"I am asking, is that what you feel you should do?" he answered, and sat on the bench. Above him a blood-covered woman was cutting off her own arm screaming, "It's my body!"

He was right. "What is your name?" I finally asked.

He smiled and shrugged. "Just call me what every one else does; Dad."

END

## Gray Tigers

A short story

Planet Denen 3, 2188

The grim reality of the situation was that he never saw a person under 30 in town. The situation must be getting worse because the people he saw out and about were getting older and older. Roger Talbot, 52, had retired early thanks to some fortunate and some unfortunate events. The economy was in shambles with the war.

Walking through the town center he noted the boarded up shops and the gray-haired sidewalk vendors on blankets. A woman he knew, Julia Mendez, was sitting on a blue blanket with a tray of arepa's trying to earn some money to help her children.

"I'll take a few of those, Julia." He said, kneeling beside her. Choosing one filled with cheese, another with fried egg and a third with some kind of meat and egg.

"Thanks, Roger." She said as she piled them on a paper plate and added a paper napkin. Times were tough all over, even if she sold everything she would only be marginally better off for the day. Roger's wife had divorced him long ago and he never bothered to remarry. Now and then he felt something for Julia but he never told her that.

"Excuse me, sir." Someone behind him said, trying to sound polite and firm at the same time and failing. Roger turned around and stood. A woman in uniform was standing there with a palm com, a holographic screen floated above it.

"How can I help you?" He asked the woman. She had short cropped brownish hair and appeared to be wearing a dress uniform, he estimated that she was in her mid-30's.

"Yes, I'm with the Global Defense Organization's recruitment office. Have you considered signing up to serve in the war?" She asked. "What is your name?"

"Me? Roger Talbot, but I didn't think they recruited men over 50 for the war. I doubt I'd do well fighting planet to planet with all those lift-offs and landings." He told her.

"No, not that. We have a Home Guard too. To defend this planet if it comes to being invaded by the enemy." She told him.

That was new. He hadn't heard that the enemy even had such a capability remaining. All of the propaganda said the aliens were being pulverized and had no chance against us in space. It was reported that they would be confined to only their home world in a matter of months.

"I didn't know there was such a thing." He answered. She took his arm and pulled him a little ways from the sidewalk vendors.

She came close and in a quiet tone said. "We don't want it getting out, but there is a chance they still have some ships and troops we don't know about. That's why we have the Home Guard. If you sign up you would be paid a little and have free meals."

That offer probably worked for a lot of people in this economy, he thought to himself, although it smelled fishy. Why was this Home Guard thing such a secret? Why was it in need of new recruits when there were hundreds of thousands of impoverished people who would jump at the chance?

He read her name badge. "Lieutenant Melody Smith. Can I have a day to think it over and maybe get some affairs in order? I can meet you back here at noon tomorrow."

She seemed satisfied. "Yes, that would be alright. See you then."

The more he thought about it, the worse it sounded. Denen must be in peril if they were recruiting older men to fight. All the younger men and women were already at war in distant solar systems, leaving Denen mostly undefended. Maybe the authorities were just now recognizing this oversight.

Okay, if the government was going to be paying for his meals and he didn't need to rent the tiny closet-like apartment any more he had some things to do. Soon enough he was knocking at the shack-like house of Julia Mendez.

"Roger? What brings you here?" She asked, he could hear her kids playing inside.

This was going to sound weird, but...

"I've decided to enlist. Not as front-line soldier or anything but they still have slots for people like me n the war effort. I wanted to tell you..." He paused,

"Tell me what?" She asked, curious but at least smiling.

"While I'm in, I won't need to pay for my meals or anything. I wanted to transfer my payments over to you in the meantime." He told her. She looked surprised and speechless.

"I mean, it would be hard to spend it before it expires. I might be away for months and the thought of all that money disappearing into nothing makes my stomach hurt." Roger told her. Julia came outside and closed the door and gave him a hug. He hugged her back.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow." He told her, handing her a folded piece of paper with some cash in it. "These bills expire in less than two weeks, so you need to make sure they get spent. Get little Gabriel some sandals, or something."

"I really don't know how to thank you." She told him.

"Well, you'll have time to think of something while I'm away." He told her jokingly.

The next day, as he predicted the recruiter turned up with a military vehicle. It looked sort of like a boat on large wheels. There were a couple of other older men who had signed on as well ready to board.

"Lieutenant." He asked when he had a moment close to her. "Why is the Home Guard recruiting? Seems like they would have all the hands they need."

"I wouldn't know anything like that. You can ask the base Commander when you arrive." She answered before walking toward the vehicle, "Okay, recruits. Up the ladder, let's get moving."

Roger joined them after exchanging waves with Julia who was not there to sell anything for once.

East Sector Tertiary Camp

The vehicle entered through the front gates after passing maybe fifty miles of woodland. The colony of Denen hadn't reached this far yet. The front gate guards were probably in their mid-forties and both of them had laser rifles slung on their backs.

There were some uniformed soldiers jogging and exercising in a field to the left as they passed but he wasn't close enough to tell their age. Finally the vehicle stopped between some buildings, there were other military vehicles parked nearby in neat rows.

Maybe all of this was just the government being wasteful, or just giving them something to do besides puttering around. He saw some soldiers cleaning windows at a barracks and some others doing maintenance on a mobile anti-aircraft laser. All of these had gray-hair.

"Like an old folks home with guns." He muttered to himself as he got off the vehicle and stood at attention with the other new arrivals. Someone came out of the building they were facing, he had more ribbons and shoulder stripes than the others.

"I am base Commander Falco. I know you are wondering why you are here. You are here to give support and aid to the men who fight the enemy." The balding officer told them. "If you have military experience, even just basic training two decades ago, I want to know. It will help me assign you to your new duties. Quite possibly freeing up someone who can fight the bad guys."

The other guys who had come with him were named Jeffery Mint and Conrad Tabor. They were bunked in the far back corner of the barracks and got to know each other some over meals and exercises. Jeffery was assigned to the kitchens, Conrad was soon an electrician (again) while Roger Talbert was assigned to the watchtower.

The watchtower turned out to be two-hundred feet tall. There was no lift attached, just a ladder made up of a single bar with alternating "branches". Roger had to pause and catch his breath before he started climbing without looking down or up. Doing either would make his stomach spin and his head go woozy.

The man he was relieving told him the basics. He was looking for anything. Which narrowed that down really well. When he saw anything he was to use the binoculars and then zoom in until he could dismiss it as no threat or declare it a threat. If he found a threat he was to use the built-in com to address the base commander directly.

For the first five days he was always seeing birds or deer or things blown by the wind. It seemed unproductive and pointless. What happened to the high-tech sensors the military had deployed, was the Home Guard just too unimportant? Was this all busy-work? The base commander seemed to be pretty intense for a guy running an exercise center for old men.

On the sixth morning he was awake before the bugles to take a piss. He noted as he passed the bunks that several of them were empty. Roger was a bit confused. These men were not on a night-shift, they should still be in their bunks asleep. After daybreak he found the base commander observing the cleaning of his personal transport.

"I saw that several bunks in the barracks were empty this morning. Those men work days, so it is unusual for them to be gone before bugles. Has something happened?" Roger asked.

Base commander Falco waved him off. "Nothing to worry about. These things happen in war. Maybe their contract ended and they wanted to leave."

"In the middle of the night without saying goodbye?" Roger asked, "That doesn't make much sense."

"Don't worry about it. It's all part of wearing the uniform." Commander Falco said, then looked at his office as another vehicle arrived. It was carrying new recruits. That was as much as he could figure before he was climbing the watchtower again.

Something was very off about this base. Roger would bring this up to Conrad and Jeffery later at the evening meal. When he did he asked, "Have you guys seen anything weird?"

"We have two fewer armored vehicles and one of the laser batteries was getting fresh batteries." Conrad told him, "I checked over the papers on that. Seems like it's worn them out and they were only installed a few months back."

Not only had it been used but it had been used enough to need new batteries. Out here in the middle of nowhere on a non-priority base without any of the advanced equipment like those sent to the front. All of this was confusing enough without noticing that people were going missing.

"I work in the kitchens." Jeffery Mint said, "I wouldn't see any of that. I was doing the evening inventory yesterday, I quite clearly recorded 711 cases of ReadyMeals. This morning there were only 600 of them. As if that wasn't weird enough, by evening inventory today, it had become 645. As if they took some last night and brought some back today."

The next morning he was back up in the watchtower. In the distance he could see some thin smoke and he got a close up view with the equipment. That clearing hadn't been there the previous day and the strange smoke, nearly completely dissipated was dark. Had there been a campfire? Nobody would come out here to do some logging.

Roger used the equipment to get the best look he could. He saw something strange and moved the camera carefully. As far as he could determine there was a military vehicle in the clearing that had been on fire. Roger doubted he was supposed to be able to see that. He didn't dare call Commander Falco or even write down the observation.

That evening at meal time he didn't disclose what he had seen to his friends. It did not stop them from telling him anything they saw.

"I worked a few minutes late on inventory when the supervisor came in and told me to stand side as some soldiers took some cases. They wouldn't tell me what was going on." Jeffery said.

"Some of those vehicles have dents and scratches in them that weren't there the other day." Conrad told them in a quiet voice. "They were being banged out and repainted today. None of this is in the reports."

"Something is going on. I don't like it." Roger told them, "If we've been invaded, why would this be kept secret?"

Jeffery and Conrad both looked at him as if the answer was obvious.

Roger Talbert had a troubled sleep. Suddenly he was being shaken and then pulled by his shirt-front out of the cot. He noticed Jeffery and Conrad had also been roused by the unfamiliar looking soldiers who hushed them and led them out of the barracks.

Falco was waiting for them next to an armored vehicle.

"We need you to take this vehicle out east-northeast for nine kilometers, chain it to a wrecked vehicle that you will tow back to base." He told them, "Do not question these orders. Hanson, there, will man the turret gun, in case you come into contact with an enemy force."

Roger traded confused looks with Conrad and Jeffery. Conrad would drive, Roger would take the side seat next to him. Jeffery was in the back, trying to figure out how to reload the laser rifle he had been issued.

"What is this about?" Conrad asked, "Why would they give an assignment like this to us? Does that make any sense?"

No. Not at all. Not unless they were losing this war and Denen was being invaded.

"I have no idea." Roger answered. Suddenly the ground rose up in front of the vehicle like a blister on the skin. Then this blister popped and some sort of heavy vehicle was facing right at them. The turret opened fire as Jeffery jumped out the back and ran.

The other vehicle also began firing. The first shots put a hole in the military vehicle and exploded in the cockpit. When Roger was able to stand up and open his eyes, Conrad Tabor was fried to a crisp in the seat.

The turret above him exploded and blood splattered down around him. Roger decided that Jeffery was the one to follow. He turned and ran out of the back of the vehicle just as the other vehicle emitted a laser so bright that the dead of night looked like the sun had gone nova. Roger couldn't help but look back in time to see the armored vehicle literally melt.

Denen had been invaded. It might be a small invasion, since this was taking so long, but they were here without a doubt.

Roger entered the woods instead of staying on the dirt road and he found a nice ditch to hide in when he thought he heard enemy forces around. Instead he saw military drones fly over his position and then there were more armored vehicles arriving.

He made his way to them and one of them stopped. Commander Falco was at the hatch. "Get in! The battle is joined and we Gray Tigers have a chance at glory!"

The man was nuts, but he was the boss. Roger climbed aboard.

"Now what?"

END.

