Violated

Damien Stonefly arrived at his house after the long drive through the hills. Getting there is always slow-going, but that’s the point. Fame and fortune can lead one to be a recluse, at least for some of the time. He always wondered why billionaires and rich actors would build or buy expansive, opulent homes in places where most people either won’t dare to travel or just can’t. Damien’s house is on a mountain top well above the tree line, too dangerous for one to be unprotected. The weather is unpredictable and can turn violent, with blizzard-like conditions in the middle of what, down in the valley, is an otherwise sunny, warm summer day.

The security gate opens and he drives onto the last part of his journey. The garage door lifts without being told. The security system knows that his car, with him at the wheel, has entered the property and the gate is closed. Had there been a guest in the car, he would need to provide some validation before the garage would actually open. Being the third wealthiest person on the planet Earth

would make anyone paranoid. Joseph Heller was right- “Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.”

Damien gets out of his vehicle and shakes off the drive as the door closes behind him. It’s warm in the garage despite the rapid drop in temperature outside. When it isn’t windy up here it is unnaturally quiet. Sitting still for a moment he can hear his heartbeat, the blood rushing in his ears, and the raspy sound of gasses being drawn in, exchanged, and expelled to be scattered by the wind. The isolation is refreshing. His life outside was now filled with constant requests for his attention, something Damien finds exasperating.

Entering the house, lights come on, the fireplace in the main hall burst into life, and the room where MaryAnne lies in stasis lights with a soft glow, reminding him of her presence. He walks to the sarcophagus and admires her with quiet satisfaction. A brief smile comes across his face before he decides he doesn’t have the time or energy for her. MaryAnne is a symbiant. Crafted after the likeness of the late, great Dawn Wells, American actor known best for her role as MaryAnne on an ancient form of entertainment called television. Once upon a time there was a technology that allowed images and sound to be broadcast via electromagnetic waves and was received by primitive equipment that would take those waves and extract the intelligence from them to recreate these moving images, albeit primitively, on the inside of a glass container within which the viewing screen was coated with phosphor that would light up when excited by an electron beam that would rapidly run across the screen in lines starting at the top corner of the screen, proceeding across to the end of the line while the intelligence contained in the broadcast signal would be used to modulate the intensity of the beam. When the scan reached the end of the line the beam would shut off and return to the beginning of the next line and start the process over until the entire screen would be filled with an image, each image was called a frame. Similar to film, each frame would be drawn at the rate of 60 frames per second or one frame every 1/60th of a second. Due to rapidity of the scanning a human would not see this scanning process but instead see the complete image. When the scan completed one frame the beam would be sent back to the upper left of the screen and start the next frame. Due to something called persistence of vision a person would not notice the image being turned off and restarted with the next frame but would perceive the series of images as motion. When television first arrived it was met with skepticism as to the actual value. The whole thing was treated more as a parlor trick, a television being just a toy that wealthy people could afford. The first televisions were large and heavy and had tiny circular screens. Nevertheless, the idea was captivating. As with all great ideas, the instant that advertising executives understood that the flickering movement would put the viewer into a strange, hypnotic state that allowed ideas and concepts to be injected into a person’s subconscious, the technology was rapidly refined. The screens became larger. the original black and white tubes were replaced with tubes that could produce color images. Writers and actors were paid to produce tremendous volumes of material that could be viewed in the homes of the television owners and at periodic intervals the entertainment would be interrupted by advertising. Clever skits involving housewives discovering some miraculous product or appliance and tie this new discovery to an easier, better life. Viewers would see these advertisements, often many time a day or even within one show and, though they had no prior knowledge of this product or appliance found themselves wanting these things. The manufactured desire that these viewers felt was designed to make them feel inadequate, as if somehow they had missed out on something that would make their life better or that maybe everyone else knew about and they just had to have these things. This would have the effect of creating a vacuum within the household that could only be fulfilled by working more hours to pay money for these things, and before a viewer could even think they were somehow fulfilled there would be something new, something glamorous that they just had to have. People become so obsessed with this technology that their lives revolved around it. They would make sure the kids were in bed early so that the adults could watch their television shows, some of which contained more mature content.

The system was so good at manipulating viewers perception that it could be argued that it almost destroyed the world as we know it. The rate at which the worlds resources were exploited and gobbled up was, by any standard, ravenous and irresponsible. People often believed what they were being shown was a version of reality that was usually far outside their own experience. The average home on television was voluminous. The average American home was small, with two or three bedrooms with just enough room within which to exist. Before television, most Americans wanted a cute little house with a nice little kitchen and a great big yard for the kids to play in and to have garden parties or take the occasional nap in a hammock. For most television shows and movies, the individual rooms were actually sets. For actors to be able to move within a space and express themselves the set was more like a broadway stage, allowing actors to pace to and fro, waving their arms and expressing themselves in wildly eloquent fashion in order to create a spectacle that would capture the viewer’s attention. Another effect of all this emotion and expression on screen was that most viewers were consumed with the idea that there life paled in comparison to what they saw on television. A thirty minute show would be created to tell a story. In this story were likely gorgeous, fit actors with lots of makeup and professionally quaffed hair. They would be professionally dressed by wardrobe technicians. Teams of writers would work very hard to create a story that would keep viewers watching. The unintended effect, or possibly intended, was that viewers often felt that they could not communicate well with their partners, that their lives were somehow missing all of the wonderful things that they saw on television. Television and it’s programming did an excellent job of destroying the family structure leading many to ever more depressed lives as they were comparing themselves to a fantasy that, for all intents and purposes, was real to the viewer. Nobody that produced television or created ads cared about this effect. The sad truth is that they fully understood all of these things. The television shows were just a way to create a desire in the viewer to strive to attain some sense of perfection in their lives. Life isn’t perfect for anyone.

Some of the content produced for television was comedic in nature. Many of the shows were sophomoric, laugh out loud stories that were a fun way to relax with friends or family and be entertained by something simple. Situations that were impossible. Hilarious story arcs that would keep the viewer captivated. The commercial breaks were short enough to allow the story to take up where they left off before the break, like a set change at the theatre.

Gilligan’s Island was one of the early television shows. It was an ancient show that ran on screens in the early days of home entertainment. The show ran from 1964-1967, barely three years, and still, somehow, even after three hundred years, if one is attracted to women and watches an episode of this ridiculous, slap-stick, comedy one would fall instantly in love with MaryAnne. This particular version of MaryAnne was tailored to Damien’s desires. Outwardly, she is MaryAnne. Regardless of the chill in the house, she always moves around the house in a pair of painted on shorts and a midriff top, an outfit consistent with her character. MaryAnne has a flawless, athletic body. She is unique in the symbiant world. Damien commissioned her once the process to create symbiants was perfected. She is not licensed for anyone, not even the richest customer. She was commissioned and created for Damien by Damien after a party in Los Angeles at which the host screened their latest acquisition of Americana Artifacts, being the only three episodes of Gilligan’s Island known to survive. There was a character in the show, a movie star, who was supposed to be the glamorous beauty, but in every little boys dreams of the time, history points out, MaryAnne steals the show. Probably some little girls, as well, but in those times nobody spoke of such things, just as nobody spoke of little boys that were somehow turned on by The Professor, Roy Hinckley, played by Russel Johnson.. Silly show, but it hit all the right heartstrings for the viewers.

Damien turns away from MaryAnne and the light in her storage area dims and extinguishes. He walks to the kitchen, hoping for something to quench his thirst. He opens a door and pulls out a bottle with some liquid in it, closes the door, and walks towards the spacious main hall to relax. He pauses at the kitchen counter and when he looks down at the granite countertop a keypad and display appear, projected based on the pattern his eyes make when he looks at the surface, and he selects some music. Something peaceful, he is thinking. He scrolls through the list until he comes to something that catches his eye. He makes a selection. Clair de Lune by Debussy begins to play, a solo piano studio recording from the early 21st century.

Damien smiles and turns his gaze to the fireplace and strides over to a sofa opposite the fireplace. As the first bar of Clair de Lune finishes, he is struck by a dart in the seat of his pants. A paralytic takes over and he is instantly frozen. He starts to fall forward to what looks like a face smashing header onto a marble floor. A stealthy figure leaps from the shadows and catches Damien’s unconscious body and gently lowers it to the floor, rolling him onto his back.

The figure, masked and covered head to toe except for the eyes works quickly to unbuckle Damien’s belt and slip his pants down to mid-thigh. He then pulls down his boxer briefs and pull’s out Damien’s member, which is now fully erect, another effect of the paralytic.

“Oh, good for you, Mr. Stonefly!”, says the figure with a tone of admiration.

The masked man takes off a small backpack and takes out a device. It looks like an old-time cow milking device, harking back to a time when humans drank cows’ milk, and he takes out a tube of lubricant and squirts some around the opening. He places the opening at the end of Damien’s penis and touches a small button on a box connected to the milking device via clear tubing. The box begins to hum rhythmically. The milking end hungrily consumes Damien’s penis and covers it completely. The masked figure looks at a timer on the box that is making all the noise and decides to have a brief look around. Clair de Lune still plays in the background. The fireplace is making warm noises. The machine attached to Damien continues to do it’s thing, and the intruder strolls over to MaryAnne. She is stunning, this creature- if you can call her that. Undeniably human, and yet…not.

He studies her face carefully. He is captivated. Her big, brown, exquisite eyes, the dark chestnut hair done up in pigtails, of course. The masked man is intrigued. Claire de Lune plays on. Unable to turn his gaze from the gorgeous creation behind the glass, he just stares, consumed with longing. Clair de Lune comes to it’s final crescendo. The machine that he set to task chimes a pleasant little tune warning that Damien is about to climax.

The man glides quickly over to the body and the device and watches a small vial that is embedded in the device wherein the semen from Mr Stonefly will collect. Damien will recall later that he was dreaming of MaryAnne doing something new to him, and he climaxes unconsciously. The device attached to him changes tone slightly as if straining, and the masked man watches as the glass vial is filled with the thick, pearly substance. When Damien’s unconscious climax is over, the machine emits another pleasing tone and stops the rhythmic humming which is replaced with a slow hiss, the sound of the vacuum around Damien’s member being released. When the hissing stops the masked man removes the device from the billionaire’s priapistic member, removes the vial and holds it up to the light then places the vial in another container designed to preserve the semen for the trip to the lab. the masked man stands up and takes a pillow from the sofa and places it under Mr Stonefly’s head.

Walking through the kitchen, the masked man is putting on the backpack and making ready to leave the premises, when he stops and turns to the sarcophagus that holds the rare beauty. He strides over to take one last look. Such a beautiful woman. He is struck by the thought that there are people that can afford such a thing as a symbiant. Apparently, if a person is that rich and untouchable some become so relationship averse that this is a better alternative for them. A partner who is the perfect match; one whose only concerns are also yours. A creature modeled after your every desire, right down to the ability to make it place itself in stasis and stay that way until you want to interact with it. It must be terribly lonely being that rich and powerful. The thought is quickly replaced by the idea that being up here alone with this model might not be all bad. Weird, but not all bad. He turns and makes his exit.

A door closes quietly somewhere. Damien begins to groan and move around slightly. He writhes for a brief moment on the floor, then sits bolt upright with a gasping realization that he is on the floor had been unconscious. He looks around quickly, then down at his exposed genitalia, and knows immediately what has happened. A seed collector. He grimaces, knowing full well what the genealogical and legal consequences will be. He gets up, pulls up his pants, buckling his belt on the way over to the coffee table. Once again the display appears, and Damien touches a button.

“Yes, Mr Stonefly?”, a voice says over the sound system, which seems to come from

everywhere at once.

“Seed collector!”, Damien shouts

“Damnit! How long ago?”, the voice’s tone changes to one of urgency.

“Ummm”, Damien looks around, the dusk not having given way to full night, “Maybe twenty minutes.”

“Right! A drone is up and headed your way. We’ll scour the mountainside.”

“Do you think you can catch it?”

“We’ll do our best, you know that, but you did give us specific orders to stand down this weekend, so he has a good head start. Do you require medical attention?”

Damien thinks about this, feeling himself all over. His left butt cheek is a little sore, and he feels a little groggy, but otherwise okay.

“No, I don’t think so. Right now I just want a shower.”

“Right. We’ll leave you alone, then. Let you know if we find anyone or any thing.”

“Thanks, Rolf.”

“No worries. Call us if you need anything else. Pleasant evening, Mr Stonefly.”

The call ends. Damien looks at the display again and touches the button that looks like MaryAnne. There is a hissing sound behind him as the door opens to the storage sarcophagus where MaryAnne ‘sleeps’ and she comes running out, rushing to his side on the sofa, kneeling in front of him. She places her hands urgently on his face.

“Damien, are you okay?!”, she seems genuinely concerned, as per her genetic programming.

“I don’t know”, Damien begins to cry, “I feel terrible!”

“There, there, sweetheart, come here!”, She pulls his head to her breast and he sobs

uncontrollably. One would think he is truly hurt, but his only thoughts are of the legal gyrations that

will soon occur, “That’s it, let it all out. It’s going to be okay.”

Damien pulls her in clawingly and bawls his eyes out.

People like Damien- rich, powerful, insecure- have always had trouble with relationships between themselves and other human beings. One could argue that a person doesn’t become that wealthy and powerful by having the ability to relate to others in a healthy manner, but it’s also a matter of convenience. He never had much luck with women- or men, for that matter. As an entrepreneur and arguably a genius, he has always been so pre-occupied with other things that he could never seem to

maintain a connection on an intimate level with another person. Damien’s argument is that he just couldn’t find the perfect mate, when in reality, there is probably not a person on this earth that could put up with him for more than a short period of time. Science had worked to design and ‘build’, more like grow, the perfect symbiant for more than a century. Many had come close, creating useful but not compelling humanoid creatures, thousands of which worked in modern society. For the most part, they are attractive, simple, socially pleasant, and servile, but limited in capacity. Damien found his niche creating stunning, beautiful, symbiants that were all the rage amongst people like Damien. It started with men and women but quickly transformed into just about anything the customer desired. Men with vaginas. Women with penis’s. Women or men with penis’s and vaginas. Then things got even weirder.

Damien was more traditional, or old-fashioned (some would say unimaginative), but his ideal image of a mate was a cisgender woman of impeccable beauty and a desire to make him happy, comfortable, and sexually satisfied….always. He had long since nailed the soft parts-the personality, the empathy, all the characteristics that one would want in a mate, but the ‘hardware’- the skin, the face, the body- all of this eluded him for years, until the night in LA when he saw his first glimpse of MaryAnne

in that screening of Gilligan’s Island. He was obsessed with her from that day forward. There were a few iterations, all of which still worked at a lab (you couldn’t simply destroy a symbiant, they had to be repurposed) then he created this version. It was love at first sight. For her, it was genetic programming, her being matched to him in a thousand different ways such that, as required, the object of the symbiant’s life-long obsession, the customer, must be present when the symbiant is first made aware. Like a newborn chic bursting from the egg, the symbiant falls madly in love with the customer.

For Damien, he was always in love with MaryAnne, at least the only self-serving love that he had ever understood, but for her to self-realize while he watched, that was something Damien will never forget. The eyes first go from being glassy and mannequin-like, to looking moist, and lively, the nutation that eyes naturally display when they scan their environment makes them glitter, and, when their eyes met, the breath that came out of MaryAnne’s mouth removed the breath from Damien’s lungs. MaryAnne is perfection, as far as Damien is concerned. Once the smell of her hair got to him, he knew she had imprinted and that he, too, was ‘in love’.

This effect of this process of having the being of your dreams animated, as fully human as science will allow, is where the bulk of Damien’s wealth is derived. People that are this rich and this powerful never truly trust anyone. The concept that one could have their ideal mate created just for them, knowing full and well that they can not only be trusted, but will be replaced under warranty should something go awry was ground-breaking. Some of the early lifetime symbiants didn’t fully imprint and a few were caught trying to escape. The defective models are taken to a place where they can live and work, amongst themselves, and carry on like anyone else, but they wear a tattoo on their left hand that marks them so as not to end up on someone’s lap without warning.

The law around genetics, of course, took decades to catch up. Most of it being so creepy and weird that many politicians and legal eagles didn’t even want to think about it. Some lawyers, however, found it fascinating. So fascinating, that they kept at it until the public was both prepared and well-protected. One of the odd, unintended consequences behind all of this legislation is that if one should find themselves pregnant with a genetic match for someone, that someone is doomed to support said child and it’s mother, or father, or whomever, for the rest of their natural lives. Judges became so exasperated with the vagaries surrounding paternity- and maternity that the judiciary just threw up its collective hands and made the out come very simple. Does the DNA match? Done. Like alimony in ancient time, it was unavoidable. This all sounds very sexist, but there are also egg collectors. If the genetics matched, one is, in all but the most desirable sense, completely fucked.

When you combine the weirdness that the ultra-rich usually represent with the fact that, with a symbiant, there is no risk, well, very rich people often choose a symbiant. So…if one is one of these ultra-rich elites, and one decides they want to procreate and the only acceptable donor is unwilling, well, that’s where the seed/egg collector comes in handy. Apart from the ultra-rich, seed and egg collectors are the most sought after and intriguing humans on the planet. A billionaire that is obsessed with Damien Stonefly, probably to an unhealthy degree (define a healthy billionaire), has decided that they want his offspring and poor Damien has been, and not in the most satisfying sense, completely fucked.

Outside, and several thousand feet down the mountain, Ninja, as the figure is often referred to by his peers, has alighted on a grassy valley on the mountainside. Corey, is given name, had used a paraglider to ride currents of air up to the billionaires ‘impenetrable’ fortress. Performing this stunt would have easily painted him as a threat, but he performed the daring do at night. With night vision goggles, no moon, and what turned out to be a cloudless sky, Corey had actually flown up to the mountain top the night previous night. He had landed precariously just below the summit then stashed his parasail for the return trip. If the weather got too bad or something happened to the pack containing the glider he would have to steal Damien’s car and drive down the mountain. The plan B may have allowed him to escape, but he would have had to administer a tranquilizer to the victim that would give him more time to escape and, in all likelihood, the long, twisting ride down the mountain would have been noticed by someone.

Ninja packed the glider away, fastened the smaller pack to the larger one, donned it, and started to jog down a mountain trail. There was still a small amount of daylight left. He had to get to the extraction point before the raptor arrived. He was beyond pleased with himself. This procurement, as it is referred to, would set Corey up for life. He had been a security consultant for years. He was often called in to assess the security of places like the one he had just compromised. Though he had not been involved in the building of this particular fortress, people like to brag. The ultra rich, at least those in the public eye, are no exception. Damien’s ego allowed Corey to piece together the inner workings of Damien’s hide-away. It was certainly a job that took a lot of preparation.

Corey arrived at the extraction point just moments before the raptor appeared. Hovering and swinging low, he was on the skid and in before the pilot could arrest the descent and resume it’s path. The raptor pilot was an old friend, one of the best. She was military trained, but somewhere along the way her military bearings went out and she decided to become a freelancer.

“Thanks Paisley!”, Corey shouted over the noise as he grabbed her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Both of her hands were busy.

“Right on time, champ!”, She said while looking the other way. She was also flying with night vision and flying in mountains was treacherous enough in the daytime. They zipped downslope as fast as Paisley could make this thing go, skirting close to the ground and between two ridges hoping that if a drone should arrive before they are in the clear they would still slip out undetected.

“Well? Success or failure?”, Paisley asked while adroitly moving flight controls almost without thinking.

“The man was well-hydrated, I’ll give him that.”, They both laughed.

“Then I should expect payment soon?”

“Oh, yeah. This is not going up for bid. This one was contracted.”

“Suweeeet!”, Paisley pushed the stick forward and they dropped over the edge of precipice.

“Woohoooo!” they both shouted, excited by their fortune and jacked with adrenaline. The two had known each other for a long time. Their working relationship started in the military, but they were

both so bored with the military that they went off on their own, in separate ways, of course. Paisley often flew various aircraft for various people. Corey had become a security consultant, dealing with everything from paranoid homeowners, to entertainment moguls, to, well, billionaires. Paisley’s cut alone would allow her to upgrade her fleet, at the very least.

Payday

Tyrone was sitting on the edge of his desk with a drink in his hand. In front of him sat Whisper, another seed collector, also with a drink in her hand. Whisper and Tyrone were waiting for Ninja to arrive. He had mentioned something about an acquisition he had been working on and that he may have something valuable. The nature of the things that Tyrone, Whisper, and Ninja got themselves involved in required incredible discipline. There is no room in their clandestine world that they played in for sloppiness. None of them knew the original identities of the others. None of them had tattoos or other identifying oddities that might stand out in surveillance video or in reports of criminal activity. People with talents such as those possessed by the three of them allowed them to operate outside of modern convention without detection. Contempt for authority is the one thing they all have in common.

“Any idea what he’s got up his sleeve this time?”, Whisper asked

“Not really. We haven’t had much contact in a while, and then it was always ‘just touching base’

or ‘You’ll never guess who I ran into’ kind of thing.”

“So, this could be drinks on a weeknight, or…”

“…Or he’s got something huge. It really has been a while and we really haven’t spoken that much. I really hope it’s something big. I could use a payday.

“Couldn’t we all”, Just as she finished that sentence the door to Tyrone’s study opened and the guard led Corey in to the room.

“Ha, ha! Look at you!”, Ty stood up from his perch and walked over to Corey, “Ninja! Good to see you, man! It’s been a minute!”

“Yes it surely has”, They shook hands, followed by a bro hug then stood smiling. Whisper stood up and walked toward Ninja.

“Judging by your clothes you have just pulled of something interesting.”

“Whisper, how are you? It’s been far too long, my friend”, They embraced briefly, kissing each other on the cheek. They stared at each other briefly, smiling.

“I just stopped by to have a drink, or so I thought”, She said, her smile morphing from something polite to something more conspiratorial, “Jesus, dude. Out with it already! If that smile gets

any wider your head might split open!”

Corey smiled broader at this, even blushed a little.

“Should I leave you two alone?”

“I don’t know. Well?”, Tyrone looked at Ninja.

“This one demands an audience!”, Corey walked over to the desk and took off the small pack that he was wearing at the Stonefly estate only hours earlier, “I haven’t even had time to shower.”

Whisper liked the sound of this. The urgency meant that whatever was in that pack was perishable. She grinned like a little kid and mock clapped her hands like a child on opening birthday presents.

“Ooh, let see it!” She said.

Corey pulled out some nitrile gloves and put them on. He then pulled out the extractor and set the boxy end on the desk. The other two knew exactly what was going on at this point, the only question was who.

Whisper reached into the pack and took out the other end of the extractor and held the open end to her nose and took a slight whiff. Her eyes narrowed a little and a randy smile came to her lips.

“Oh, this one is rare!”, She said

The other two just looked at her, half in amazement and half in disgust.

“Oh, get over it. You don’t really think women perform fellatio just for your enjoyment- do you?”

The other two look at each other and shrug. Whisper took another whiff as they watched, waiting to hear what she had to say next.

“This guy is filthy with money”, the words made all of them smile like they were also about to be filthy with money.

“Don’t look at me like that, at least I didn’t excuse myself and disappear to the bathroom only to emerge all sweaty and flushed ten minutes later!”, she was referring to the last time she scored a collection from the ovaries of the woman considered by most to be the most beautiful and alluring woman in the world using a vaginal extractor, the kind that leaves no marks. Ninja blushed, Tyrone looked at him and laughed. Whisper smiled at Ninja, her eyes laughing at him.

“Hey, curry turns me on, I can’t help it!”, They all laughed hard at this one and completely lost all professional demeanor. When they had enough weirdness, Tyrone reached out his hand.

“Let’s see it. Hand it over”

Corey took the vial out of the device and handed it to Tyrone.

“You guys want to join me in the lab?”

“Shit yeah,” Said Whisper, grabbing the scotch decanter from Tyrone’s desk and the third clean glass. Drinks in hand they all turned and walked to the door and into the hallway to the elevator at the end. The elevator opened, they got in, the door closed, and they began to descend rapidly.

“Here, love”, Whisper said as she handed the clean glass to Ninja. “You’ve earned it.”

“Don’t mind if I do”

She poured two fingers into his glass.

“Cheers”, Ty said as they all clinked glasses and took a sip.

“Oh, that’s goooood”

“You have no idea”, said Tyrone, “I knew this was going to be a special night.”

The elevator stopped and the door opened into a vestibule. They took a minute to don lab coats, hairnets, and shoe covers then Ty place his hand on a panel that opened a door to an airlock. the airlock’s curtain rolled up into the overhead and they stepped in. After a brief pause, the curtain came down. Ty placed his hand on another panel and this time there were loud clunks behind this wall. The second door was more substantial. Ty turned the lever handle and the door popped open easily, the air pressure in the room being slightly higher than that of the airlock by design. The door opened in to a large laboratory, a sort of genetic Wonka factory that few would ever see. No personnel were in the lab, having been sent home in anticipation of Ninja’s arrival. There were all kinds of whirring machinery quietly performing various functions that often take hours or days. They pass by some sort of robot that is using a pipet to drop tiny amounts of reagent into a vast number of tiny, open vials, all under a protective glass hood. They make their way to a sequencer. Ninja hands the vial to Ty who slips it into a machine. A clear protective guard comes down over the opening. the machine inserts a hollow needle through the rubber stopper on the vial and extracts a tiny amount of the material. The needle retracts and then the guard door opens. Tyrone takes out the vial and looks at Ninja.

“Freeze it,” Corey says, “You’re going to want this to stay viable.”

Ty nods, and walks over to a freezer. The two gentlemen take a moment to label and mark the vial. Ninja uses his viz to snap an image of the vial in Tyrone’s hands, then it is placed into a freezer where it will stay pending disposition.

“This will take a while. You two hungry?

“Famished”, they both say without hesitation.

“I figured as much. Let’s go eat! I can’t wait around for this on an empty stomach.”

“Here, here”, Whisper said.

Tyrone led the way to the door. they removed their gowning and dropped it into a waste receptacle. When they approached the curtain, it shot up again, letting them out. Whisper led the way to the elevator, glass in her left hand, decanter dangling from her right down by her side. They watched and she walked to the door. She hits the elevator button and turns around to see them still at the other end of the vestibule.

“Oh, c’mon, schoolboys.”

The two men looked at each other.

“She sashayed” Said Corey

“Yeah she did”, Ty agreed as they all entered the elevator.

“I did not, sashay!” She demanded

“Oh, you totally did!” Ninja said.

“Definitely some sashaying” Ty agreed.

“Oh, c’mon! You two are so juvenile.”, She sipped some scotch, blushing more than a little.

The two men saw this and grinned. Whisper looked at them and, after a brief pause, they all burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

“I just had my schnoz hovering briefly over the business end of an extractor still moist with some of the rarest jiz on the planet!” This brought more laughter, “Excuse me if I’m not maybe a little moist.”, She holds up her hand in a gesture of minusculity using her thumb and forefinger as she sipped her scotch, eyes trained on Ninja. More laughter ensued. When the laughter dies down, Whisper sidles up to Ninja and presses her hips into his.

“Maybe you can help me out with that later”

“I might be able to find the energy for that,” Corey said

“Can we at least get through dinner first before you two mercenaries tear each others’ close off?”

“Oysters on the half-shell?” She says, looking at Tyrone,

“Jesus, girl. Whatever you want”, Tyrone typed at his viz while the elevator whirred away. When it stopped, the doors opened into a very well-appointed penthouse. Tyrone led the way and walked over to the bar. When he reached the bar and looked down a display presented itself and he selected a button that brought music to the room that made them all relax a bit.

Corey was relieved that his acquisition was safe. He strolled over to a large red leather chair and sat down. Whisper took a seat on a loveseat, barely big enough for two, and looked at Ninja. She patted the seat beside her. Ninja rose and all but leaped over to sit beside her. Whisper was obviously up for some later activity and she was the kind of woman that one did not want to pass on.

“You two”, Ty said as he sat in the leather chair, “are truly fun to watch!”

Whisper looked at Ninja with hungry eyes.

“Well, out with it! Tell us a story”, She said, nudging his hip with hers, “I, for one, am dying to hear it.”

Ninja snorted,” The less I say the better.”

“Awww, what’s the matter, sweetheart, don’t you trust us?” She drags her nails across the back of his hand.

“Oh, darlin’ if anyone can get it out of me you’d be the one.”

“Oh, I’ll get it out of you.”

“God, you two, save it”, they all laughed a little and recomposed themselves, “Let’s talk about things you can share. How much prep time are we talking?”

“Damn. Years, man. I dunno….four…’ish?”, Ninja knew it was only a matter of time before someone would put a contract out for Stonefly. He can’t even remember when it all started, “I am surprised that someone didn’t contract for the man a long time ago. I just hope I beat the clock!”

“You did”, Said Ty, “At least as far as I know. If someone had fulfilled someone would have reached out to me at least to gloat.”

“Yeah, this is one that will be hard to keep the lid on”, Said Whisper.

“Well, it’s not a story I will tell anytime soon, if ever.”

“You were at the ‘fortress of solitude”, Ty said with a knowing smile as he took another sip of scotch.

“You knew I was coming before I hit you up”, Corey was caught short.

“Aww, your sweet”, Whisper mocked Ninja, placing her hand on his knee and giving it a shake.

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess.”

“I’ve had hooks in this guy for a long time”, said Ty, “someone from the security detail let’s me know when something good happens. The drone launch was not planned and there was a degree of urgency that made me a little nervous.”

“So we beat the drone?”

“We?”, said Whisper with a squinty-eyed look and a downturned smile.

“I was the only one anywhere near the compound.”

“Okay, okay,” Said Ty, “The less we all know about this the better. Yes, you beat the drone, but it was damn close.”

“Cheers”, said Corey, lifting his glass, to which the other two did the same and they all took another sip of the nectar from the Highlands.

As if on cue, a door opened somewhere and the smell of food came wafting into the room along with a few servers, some trays, and at that they all stood up and made their way to the dining area.

There was a tray of oysters on the half-shell on the table already.

“Will you look at that!” Whisper said, casting a narrow gaze in Ninja’s direction

“Uh, oh”, he said. He was tired but still so jacked up that he was pretty sure that he would perform just fine without the oysters, but he picked one up then looked at the others. They did the same. They were looking at him with admiration, “Down the hatch!”

They all threw back the oyster, followed by more scotch, then they all took a seat at the table. The servers had retreated to the kitchen while they relaxed a bit.

“It’s been a minute,” Ty said looking at both of them.

“It has been a minute!”, added Whisper.

“Yeah. The last time it was your payday, wasn’t it?” Ninja looked at Whisper.

“Yeah, jeez, that has been a while, yeah?” She said.

“Yeah”, Tyrone said, nodding thoughtfully.

“That was crazy!”, Ninja added, “The Prime minister of India!“

Whisper smiled at this. That was a beautiful job. She, too, had worked on that for some time. The best way that she could think of to get to the Prime Minister was to use his penchant for busty, western girls. She had cultivated a relationship with a genetic programmer on the inside for a long time. They are extremely well-paid, not to mention proud of their work, but at least one of them had the gift. That rare quality that not only gives a person the desire to do something unspeakable, but also to get away with it. This certain programmer also developed a steaming desire to feel her skin next to that of the lovely and warm Whisper. That affair still goes on to this day, whenever Whisper lands in SoCal they usually hook up. She had used that relationship to get the programmer to substitute DNA for a symbiant that was ordered by the Prime Minister. This particular symbiant was an order placed by the PM. The careful modification of the DNA allowed for some strange behavior on the part of the symbiant. Using the symbiant and a carefully timed package, the symbiant was able to take the sample itself, not requiring any direct contact between Whisper and the PM.

One drunken night during which the PM was feeling particularly frisky, a courier arrived at the PM’s residence with a package. The package made it to the PM’s door. A servant received the package and delivered it to the symbiant. The symbiant, on her way to the the PM’s bedroom, looked at the package. Some coding hidden in the design of a label on the box caused the symbiant to open the package. She then read the instructions and took a detour to the washroom. Inside the box was some specialized apparatus. Tiny and designed to be intrauterine, the symbiant followed a pictogram that accompanied the device, and inserted the device where it needed to be and where it stayed for the next six hours. When the PM had enough and passed out, the symbiant returned to the restroom and removed the device, which was now filled with more-than-enough writhing seed than was necessary, and placed the device back in the box. She sealed the box with tape enclosed as directed by the instructions. She phoned a number on the instructions. She then called a servant who dutifully took the box from the symbiant who told the servant that a courier would be picking up said package. The symbiant, a Pamela Anderson model, promptly forgot everything about that evening. It was beyond genius. The other two currently in her company, however, were completely clueless. They knew the deed was pulled off, and they knew it was Whisper, but it was part of the game that details were never talked about. Admiration and respect, though, were always appreciated.

“I bought a house in Majorca with some of that money”, Whisper smiled and brought her glass to her lips, aiming her steamy gaze at Ninja. Ninja had mad respect for Whisper. This only added to the sexual undertones to all of their encounters. He also understood that every move, every single solitary gesture, expression, touch- all of Whisper, at least the person he had come to know, was calculated for an outcome. He suspected that look was intended to get him to start thinking about visiting Majorca.

“I have got to get my ass out of Los Angeles”, Tyrone said. He had made a small fortune on that transaction, as well, but the truth was that Tyrone loved Los Angeles. He traveled, sure, but villas and supercars were not really his thing. Games were his thing. If you apply game theory to everyday life, you can master anything. Politics, social ladder climbing, personal relationships. Game theory is just another way to make sense of the world. From a very young age, like most other humans, when told that he could not do a thing he always made it his mission to find out why he was not allowed to do this thing, then set about finding a way to do said thing in a way that allowed him to experience the outcome. Everything is a game to Tyrone. This meeting. This transaction. This dinner and conversation between three of the most nefarious people on the planet earth, the ongoing sexual energy between the two dining with him this night, all of it was a game. Ty liked them, he truly did, but knowing what he knew about them, combined with what little they knew about him, well, the ‘people’ he liked were only these ‘people’ when they were conducting this kind of business. He was certain that the other two knew where they stood in his eyes.

They did, however, trust each other implicitly. The reason for this trust is manifold. This night was fun for Tyrone- it was fun for all of them. The lives they lead don’t allow them to become very close to anyone, certainly not in this world. In reality, none of them required prolonged intimacy. At this table, in this place, under these circumstances, the three of them get to be open to some degree about things that will never be discussed anywhere else. Everything is a game to them, but these three are core players and they all know it. On any other day, each of them is someone and something else. It’s possible that if they ran into each other they might not even recognize each other without prompting. That was fine with Tyrone. It was fine with all of them. We often meet strangers we find intriguing. When we meet someone that is instantly attractive, the likelihood of that person being what we are attracted to before and after we part ways with them, is closer to zero than most people would suspect. Conversely, we would all like to believe that in that moment of magnetic attraction we are what we think we are. Outside of those moments this rarely holds up. These three, at least in this context, are pretty solid.

The kitchen door swung wide and servers poured out with all manner of delicious treats. A salad made from naturally grown produce from Tyrone’s personal greenhouses. Some edamame beans of spectacular color and crispness. Crispy tofu, and, the crowning jewel, a steak that was printed to mimic ancient cuts of meat, the proper textures and appearances based on archival images and recipes.

“Ty, you have really outdone yourself!”, Whisper said, her mouth watering.

“I haven’t had meat in months!”, added Ninja

“Your both too kind, really. I love good food, but it’s not often I get to show off and really enjoy it with friends that would appreciate it.”

“Oh, we sooo appreciate it!”, Whisper forked up a mouthful of fresh greens and closed her eyes , making a show of her delight.

“You are a gracious host, my friend.”, Ninja needed some healthy food. The last few days had been beyond strenuous. Two days of hiking a precarious series of trails at ascent angles that would make one’s eyes water. The plateau that he launched from was a long way from the altitude at which he started.

“Listen, the sequencing will take a while. Please be my guests tonight. Your rooms are waiting, whenever you feel the need to rest-“

“Roomszzzzz?”, Whisper exaggerated while taking a sip of wine and aiming her smoky eyes at Ninja, who, despite his discipline, was blushing.

“Jesus, you two!”, Ty shook his head, “They’re connected, don’t worry.”

He took a sip of wine and watched as the two made lightning cross the table between their eyes.

It would be embarrassing if he didn’t know these two, but he enjoyed the fact that they enjoyed each others’ company. He was reasonably certain that he liked these two.

“Well, I’m tired, but there is no reason to hurry”, Ninja said, never breaking his gaze with Whisper, “I am looking forward to catching up.”

They all smiled and continued to eat. The fire in the sitting area danced and roared quietly. Servers came and went filling water glasses and wine glasses. Their host had a vineyard and winery up the coast. Some of the vintages were award-winning. He chose his favorite table wine for this occasion.

“So”, Whisper said between mouthfuls, “you just gonna leave us hangin’?”

“You’ll find out soon enough” Ninja enjoyed a slow reveal.

“I’m all for a drink and some story time after dinner”, Ty also enjoyed a slow reveal. The suspense was fun.

They all laughed and went on enjoying this fine meal. It was a rare place for them all to be, where they held no pretense. Living outside the rules of society did not necessarily make one a sociopath- or was that the definition of a sociopath? Your average human being spent a lot of their time doing their best to be a good citizen. The term sociopath is sometimes applied to those that can’t conform, or don’t wish to conform, but breaking a few rules was not off-the-books for most people. For some people, the ability to question authority just comes naturally.

3 Whisper

“Caroline!”, A lithe woman stood on the front porch of a charming house in the country. She wore a summer dress and an apron. Still wiping her hands on the apron after washing them she called again, “Caroline! Dinner’s ready! Get your wild bee-hind in here!”

“Coming!”, a little girl emerged from the meadow, running at a gallop and giggling. A coyote was just behind her, running and growling but in a happy way, if a coyote did such things. Monster was a pet. Caroline and Monster ran across the yard and up to the porch. Monster stopped at the front steps. The woman reached over to a small table on the front porch and picked up a bowl. Caroline skipped up the steps and past her mother who tousled the little one’s hair as she passed.

“Wash for dinner” Said Mother as Caroline slid past and disappeared inside. Mother descended the porch steps and squatted to greet their four-legged family addition. She reached out and and placed both hands under the animal’s lower jaw, ruffling her fur. Monster greeted her with licks between panting.

“You little Monster,” she said, “Thank you for keeping my little girl safe”

This was Monster’s clan, now. The lithe woman reached for the bowl she had prepared for monster and placed it in front of her. Monster wasted no time diving in. It was mostly been curds and mushrooms, but Monster didn’t care. She was accustomed to people food, but at least it was healthy. Mostly meat free, it supplied most of what Monster needed. This didn’t keep the little darling from sniping off the occasional rabbit. A wild animal is a wild animal and always will be. Wild or not, Monster was part of the family. Monster’s story and how she became part of the family demonstrates a lot of the character that makes Caroline special.

Caroline was alone in the meadow near the farm one day and heard the poor little thing yipping at the entrance to a den. Caroline lay down in the weeds and watched. The mother coyote had made this den weeks ago. Caroline returned often to check on the mother and the progress of the family almost daily. The little girl was stealthy in the woods. Being unseen just came naturally. Fear gripped her only when the time came to run from something…or someone. She knew coyotes were dangerous, but she insisted on studying them. The thing she enjoyed about animals is that they are somewhat predictable, if you understand their behavior. She knew that respect and fear somehow come across to others, even if you try to suppress it, perhaps especially if one tries to suppress it. Animals can sense your fear and, to some extent, your intentions. It’s what makes their hackles stand up. Caroline possessed a natural ability to keep her more basic emotions in check. She also understood that curiosity will, if left unchecked, kill the cat. She had watched the coyote family grow over a few weeks time. One day, when she came to visit, she could hear one lone pup yipping at the entrance. When the adults would be out foraging, the cubs often sat outside the den, but making noise was dangerous and they usually sat quiet in the knowledge that the parents would return before too long. This time was different.

Crawling on her belly, she crept close enough to the den to see the lone pup. It was shaking. Yipping loudly, the tiny thing would stop occasionally and listen, trembling as it did so. Something had happened to the rest of the coy clan. Something, or someone. After what seemed like and eternity, Caroline backed up carefully. She ventured toward the creek where it was common for wild animals to cross. What she found there was chilling. the mother and father were lying about a clearing near the creek tattered and torn to pieces. There wasn’t much left of either one of them. She watched from the weeds for a while making sure that there were no other animals about. After some time, she ventured forth to see if she could tell what had happened.

There were tracks. Wolf tracks. Huge paw prints could be found on the far side of the creek. As near as she could tell, the wolves had waited on the other side for the coyotes to come down to the creek for water and when they did, they were dispatched. This could have been territorial. Coyotes and wolves are voracious hunters with large appetites. Her initial reaction was to be angry at the wolves for this, but she also knew that coyotes can be just as vicious. It’s likely that the coyotes had been poaching the wolves territory. A pack of coyotes can be every bit as terrifying as a pack of wolves. The forest that they all live in, when you factor in wandering, hunting, foraging, and small game, had little room for carnivorous competition. She didn’t like to see this, but she understood.

Once she determined that the remains were mostly the mother and father, she looked for signs of the pups. Little evidence of them remained. There was a paw, an ear, and a lower jaw from one of them, but little else. The wolves probably ate them whole. Once the mother and father had been slain, the pups were just snacks. The pup that made it back to the den was not only alone, but would eventually attract the wolves and would suffer the same fate. She made her way back to the meadow and the den. Crawling once again on her belly, she allowed herself to get closer. Poor little thing. After watching for some time, she decided to see what would happen if she showed herself and crawled close enough for the pup to see her eyes. The pup yipped a little more until the two of them made eye contact. When they did, the pup froze. Caroline fixed her gaze on the pup, doing her best to wear a neutral expression. After some time, the pup grew curious. The little girl knew that the coyotes had known she was there. Her natural ability to appear non-threatening and the fact that she appeared almost daily put the animals at ease and they ignored her…but they always knew she was there. The pup was tired and frightened. It moved cautiously toward the little girl. Lying there, chin resting on her folded arms, she waited patiently to see if the pup would come near.

The little thing ventured a few steps, froze and turned back to the den, turned and waited, then took a few more steps. It repeated this several times. Caroline waited patiently. Closer and closer the young fur ball nosed, sniffing and retreating a few steps, always turning to see if the girl would move in some threatening manner. Closer and closer the pup came until their noses almost touched. Caroline could feel the animal’s breath on her face. When their noses touched, Caroline let out a giggle. This caused the coyote to shrink back a little, but at least the poor thing had stopped shaking.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “you don’t hurt me and I promise not to hurt you.”

Something about that child was naturally disarming. The pup moved in again to sniff and this time licked Carolines nose. Caroline smiled again and made a happy sound. This was the end of the animal’s defenses and it came in close, licking the side of Carolines face and snuggling up against her cheek. Caroline lifted her right hand slowly and began to stroke the cub’s fur, using a couple fingers to smooth the hair along the orphan’s mouth and eyes and tope of the head, mimicking the grooming that the cub might get from the mother. The poor little cub responded by curling up in the crook of her arm. Caroline spoke to the cub in soft, reassuring tones, marveling at the creature. The cub went to sleep almost immediately. Caroline lay there, wondering if animals thought logically or if they just do whatever they need in order to survive. When the little girl came running out of the meadow that day, the pup came with her, yipping and leaping after her. Her mother was waiting on the front porch and, upon seeing the coyote ducked back inside and came out with a rifle. Lifting it to her shoulder she watched and Caroline paused to let the animal catch up. Instead of attacking it looked like they were just playing, so she dropped the rifle’s muzzle. Caroline and the cub did a few circles around each other as they crossed the grass toward the house, giggling and yipping as they did so.

“Now, just how long have you been running around with that little monster?!” She had asked. The name stuck.

Abigail, the mother, turned and walked up the steps and into the house. The family lived on, and managed, a small farm. They supplied a number of staples to the local community. Soybeans, broad beans, barley, and corn, depending on the year and the weather. Caroline’s father lived with them most of the time, but Jason also had contracts with the government to perform certain tasks. Currently, Jason was somewhere else. When he was home, he spent a lot of time performing a wide variety of exercises to keep himself in shape. Farm work was hard, but repairing the automated equipment that did most of the work was not as taxing as ancient farming. Let’s be honest, if a person had to sit in a tractor for days at a time either driving it or monitoring equipment, one might lose their grip on reality. Caroline and Abigail also joined in with the exercise routines. The exercises were mostly calisthenic. The routine was designed to keep Jason in the kind of shape he needed to maintain in order to perform the jobs that the Union sent his way. Abigail knew what Jason did, or what his job entailed, but it was never discussed with Caroline. The only reason Caroline knew about exercising was that it felt good. She also prided herself on being able to do more pushups at one time than either her father and mother, but weighing only 55 pounds might have something to do with it. The family was strong, lithe, and graceful. The entire community looked up to them.

Caroline rushed to the table and leaped into a chair next to her mother’s. Abigail filled two large bowls with an assortment of fried mushrooms, eggplant, broad beans, and some rice. She set the bowls on the table and took her seat. The little girl waited patiently. The two sat stiffly upright, and without words or gestures took a deep breath, held it briefly, then let it out. they did this three times. After the third exhale and a brief pause, their bodies relaxed and the two looked at each other.

“Tell me about your adventures, little one”, Said Abigail. Afternoons were free time for Caroline. Chores started early, followed by exercises, followed by wild abandon- at least on the child’s part. For Abigail, Afternoons were quiet time.

“I ran all the way to the top of Traveler’s Knob!”

“Really? All the way?!”, Mother smiled and put on an exaggerated expression of disbelief.

“Yep, all the way! Well, maybe I stopped here and there-“

“Oh, you stopped here and there, yeah? All the way- my third elbow, ya did!”

They both laughed at this.

“And how was the weather up on Traveler’s Knob?”

“Oh, you know, started nice enough, then some clouds and rain came by, then it was nice- mountain weather.”

“Aye. I love Mountain weather- keeps us on our toes, yeah?”

“Yeah, me too! I always tell my friends to look at the peak before you go- if it’s ugly up there, it will probably be clear when you get there, and if it’s nice up there, you can be sure it’s going to be shiite when you get up there!”

“Caroline!”

“Sorry, ma.”

The two looked at each other, Abigail doing her best to look disapproving.

“So was it shite when you got up there?”, this brought laughter to them both.

“It was, indeed, yeah, but it cleared up shortly after I made it there.”

“Was Monster with you the whole time?”

“Yeah, she came all the way. I think she likes the view.”

“Oh, surely she does. She also likes the company.”

“I like her company, too.”

“Did you keep your radio on the whole time?”

“Yes, mum. I keep it close always, promise.”

“okay, well, as long as you keep that with you then you can go anywhere you like.”

“I will!”, She expected that answer to cover both counts.

“Good lass. Now tell me what you saw from Traveler’s Knob.”

“I saw lots of things.”

“Like…’

“like, I saw all the way to the Parker farm and their wheat fields.”

“Did you now?”

“Surely I did. Do you know what else I saw there?”

“Where? At the Parker’s farm?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“I saw four trucks from The Union.”

“You don’t say?”, Abigail leaned back in surprise.

“I do say!”

“Well, what did they do? Were they already there, like, when you first saw them?”

“No, not at first. I saw them arrive.”

“Did you now?”, Abigail’s face darkened slightly upon hearing this and leaned forward with a look of curiosity, “What else did you see?”

“A bunch of people jumped out of them and quickly went about the property.”

“No!”

“They did”, Caroline leaned in excitedly, “Then you know what happened?”

“No!”

“A raptor came through Carver Pass and landed in the yard!”

“No! Surely your eyes were playing tricks on you”, mother said. She had already heard radio traffic but she enjoyed hearing the details from a first hand witness, even if that witness was miles away.

“I had my viewers.”

“Good girl.”

“I also saw a woman get out of the raptor and saw Matt Parker come out of the house and meet her halfway.” the girl was a trained observer.

“What else?”

“They talked briefly, then Matt ran into the house and returned with a pack and a rifle case, got in the raptor with the woman, then the raptor took off and flew back through Carver Pass.”

“Really?”, Abby said, doing her best to look surprised, “Where do you suppose they were off to?”

“How should I know, really?!”

“Well, you seem to know an awful lot!”, Abigail knew that Matt Parker had been called up for something, just what it was was anyone’s guess. Could be a wildlife problem, or possibly poachers. Poaching within a Union boundary was punishable by death. Wildlife was so precious nowadays that any type of trophy or subsistence hunting was carefully monitored. The human race had suffered through the Great Extinction, but only just. The global population began to plummet after 2200. When the population reached 9 billion, which took longer than everyone thought it would, mother nature decided. Human beings had a peculiar way about them. A person would find a patch of earth somewhere that suited them, far way from the noise of cities and the stench that they generate. Before too long, someone will venture in and see the same place as the perfect place to live, but living with the land was never enough. Humans always wanted a way to live off the land, make it generate revenue. Gradually people would show up, say, ‘this is the most beautiful spot that I have ever seen- you know what would make it perfect?’ and sooner than you could spit there would be coffee shops. Gift shops. Tourist attractions. Restaurants. Hotels would be built so that more people could come and visit. Trails would be destroyed and turned into roads. Before long, a waste-water treatment facility would be built. Then neighborhoods, with ugly houses. Then grocery stores. Then people would stop growing their own food, sitting around looking at their viz all day watching nothing. Often times a poacher is a trophy hunter that thins that the nineteenth and twentieth centuries were the pinnacle of human achievement. Old photo’s and books would sometimes inspire one to go out and, say, shoot a wolf so that they could display the palt to their friends and brag about the challenge of the hunt and how they felt more connected to nature by killing something in it. The argument for that is disturbing, at best.

The pressure on the natural world had been too much. Despite hundreds of years of warning, the great extinction happened. Fisheries descended into ruin. Whole forests slowly starved and died without the animals and pollinators to keep them healthy. A blight finally hit corn and soybeans, and, having been replaced with GMO crops that were genetically identical, the blight went around the world in a matter of just a few years. Scientists knew it was coming. They had warned about it for hundreds of years. Politicians, though, didn’t care. Every useless public figure in the 21st century would be elected to make things better. Since corporations and the ultra-rich paid for them, there was no way they could make the world a better place. What they became good at, was convincing their constituency that there was no problem. Status quo was the way to go.

The population had been groomed for so long to be good workers that they forgot all about the natural world. They grouped in big cities. They built big neighborhoods with big, fancy houses. They spent all their time playing with toys- newer cars, fancy boats, guns. When the blight hit corn, the grocery stores became sparse fairly quickly. The bulk of foods found in grocery stores had long ago been replaced with junk made with a combination of corn, soy, and wheat. Much of it was just waste products from other food industries. With the collapse of corn and soy, that took half of the products off the shelves. Populations in cities grew restless. Most people had forgotten that it was even possible to grow their own food, let alone that a person didn’t really need that much food, once they were grown, to be healthy, it’s just that the only thing the population understood was go to work, collect a paycheck, buy food in boxes. the extent of their free time was spent watching the tele and eating comfort food until they were sleepy. If it occurred to anyone that they could grow their own food, there wasn’t any space to grow it. In the space of fifty years, every major city in the world became crime-infested wastelands full of two types of people; those that prey and those that are preyed upon.

Politicians kept lying and saying that the answer was just around the corner. the ultra-rich kept paying them to say it. Politicians just expected that when the end came, the ultra-rich would protect them. They did not. Why would you respect what you can buy? The Revolution started almost everywhere at once. It was more of a looting, than a revolution. Systems collapsed all over the world. Rioters plundered rich neighborhoods, often brutalizing the inhabitants. The looting and wilding went on for almost a century. Disorder was the new order. Cities fell into ruin. Fortunately for those in rural communities, people in cities were mostly trapped. When predators take over, the prey must be kept from leaving or else there would be no point. Predators knew only predation. Those that stayed until it was too late were destined to live in a city at gunpoint.

Agrarian communities kept to themselves. They grew their crops, raised livestock, educated their children, and watched as cities descended into smoky piles of rubble and abandoned buildings. People in those cities were afraid of the country. If anyone left the city they were never seen again. Some ventured into the country seeking fortune and more plunder but those types, the predators, only found unmarked graves. Some left because they knew the cities were dead and never went back simply because there was no reason to return. A smart person with a sense of adventure and a decent work ethic was often welcomed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, by the farming community.

Over the course of a century, about 2240 to 2340, the world’s population fell to three and a half billion. The dying happened so fast that people simply couldn’t bury them fast enough. Industrial crematoria were set up in many cities. Bodies were rounded up by the truckload, and dumped into hoppers like potatoes at a crisp factory. Farmers, scientists, poets, and philosophers stayed in the countryside. Communities grew crops and livestock and traded amongst themselves. Money became a thing of the past for most people.

The Union had been formed by farmers around the world. Starting in Australia, farms went into cities to recruit workers. They built dormitories and small houses in the country alongside farms. Single people stayed in dormitories, families were granted homes if they promised to have children. Schools and universities turned their attention to those subjects that were more intellectually aligned, gone were the days of Harvard Business School- if one were to introduce themselves with such a pedigree, they might find themselves battered and bruised if not worse. The educational system was no longer interested in progress as the relentless innovation of technology that only served to create some new thing that distracted attention from the actual enjoyment of life and the betterment of the community. It seemed cultish for a time, but it soon became clear that the human race had lost their way. The Union was a way to allow people to use their talents and interests in a way that benefitted not only the individual, but those around them. The Union had saved humanity.

The farm on which Caroline, Abigail, and Justin lived was a Union farm. They were good people. Respected by their peers. They were also active members of the local Board and did their best to be pillars of their community, and they were.

“So, Wild thing, what are your plans for tomorrow?” Abigail asked the tiny human.

“I dunno. Beyond chores I haven’t given it much thought, actually.”

“So nice to be young!”

“I guess.” Abigail tousled Caroline’s hair as she said this.

“C’mon, let’s clear up and settle down for the evening.”

Caroline jumped into action, almost throwing her chair backward as she stood up. She began to

collect the dishes and take them to the sink. Her mother already drawing hot, soapy water into the sink.

“I’ll wash, you dry.”

Caroline was an enthusiastic child. She did her best to approach everything with a lot of energy. Abigail and Justin had done well to instill in her the value of hard work, especially when it came to family.

“Momma?”

“Yes, Caroline.”

“Could I be a veterinarian when I grow up?”

“Oh, you’re a smart one, you are. I imagine you could be almost anything you want to be.”

“Then I want to be a veterinarian.”

“You do have a way with animals. It’s still a great mystery to your father and I how you were able to get Monster to not only come to you but to take to you- to us!”, Abigail stopped her washing, turned and threw one hip out with her hand on it and looked at Caroline. “You’re a strange and wonderful creature, you are.”, and saying that she took her hand from the sink and placed a dollop of soap suds on the child’s nose. Caroline crossed her eyes to look at it in the most clownish way that she could and blew it up into the air. They both watched it fly then looked back at each other for a second before bursting into laughter. At that Abigail lifted her up and gave her a kiss and a big hug, spinning around a few times as they both giggled, than placed Caroline back down on her stool to get back to the washing.

“A very strange creature indeed!”

This gave the girl a sense of pride. She grinned wide and got back to the drying and retirement of all the dishes.

“What should we do next, momma?”

“Oh, I dunno. What would you like to do with the evening?”

“Could we read, some?”

“Oh, I would like that. Would you read to me?”

“Can I pick something?”

“You’re doin’ the reading, What would you like to read?”

“James Herriot!”

“Oh, I love James Herriot.”

“Me too.”

The two of them took off their aprons and turned out lights in the kitchen. Caroline hurried out to the living room far ahead of her mother and took the copy of All Things Bright and Beautiful, ran over to the sofa and leaped up onto it appropriately spaced from the end, leaving the arm for her mother out of respect. It also gave Abigail something to lean on, as Caroline already had her mother to lean on.

They made it through All Creatures Great and Small last week. they were both eager to start his next novel. Caroline started out reading. Her mother enjoyed this as the child no longer needed much correcting. She was only 10 years old but she had a much more comprehensive vocabulary than most adults. Her inflection was also good and it was more than a good way to pass the time for both of them. She read for nearly forty-five minutes before the activity of the day caught up with her. She began to stumble a bit.

“Would you like me to take over?”

“Yes please”, she said, snuggling deep into her mother’s side, smiling like an angel.

Abigail read for perhaps twenty minutes before she noticed that Caroline was fast asleep. She looked down at the wondrous child.

“Such a wonderful way to fall asleep”, She brushed Caroline’s hair back gently with the tips of her fingers. The child grinned wider and buried her face deeper into her mother’s bosom. Abigail smiled, wondering what must be going on in that complicated brain box. After a few moments of admiration and affection, Abigail carefully scooped up her little girl and carted her off to bed, Caroline wrapping her arms tightly around her mother’s neck. She lay the child gently on the bed, the girl quickly finding the pillow and burying her face within it.

“Not so fast, little one. Let’s get you changed into something more comfortable.”

Caroline sat up, rubbing her eyes, and Abigail stripped off her shirt, tossing it into the hamper in the corner. She went to the bathroom sink and got a washcloth soaked in hot water. She wiped her face gently, Caroline raising her face to her mothers, eyes closed, still smiling as her mother wiped some of the day’s grime away. She worked her way down to her neck, around that, then down her chest and across her back. She then dried off her torso, pushed her back playfully on to her back, then unbuckled and pulled off her trousers, like stripping a sausage. Abby refreshed the washcloth then cleaned the girl’s feet and ankles, and dried those as well. Caroline put her arms up, but never opened her eyes. The mother pulled her forward into a sitting position. Caroline’s arms went straight up over her head, her mother retrieving a thin, cotton night shirt from a drawer and slipping it effortlessly over the wee one’s skinny body. Wild thing turned over and dove into her pillow again. Abigail sat on the bed in wonder. What a wondrous child this is, she thought. She leaned over and gave Caroline a big kiss on the ear and whispered.

“Sweet dreams, little one.”

“I love you, Momma.”, She said in response. Abigail smiled at this, a tiny tear sliding from to corner of one eye. She stood, turned out the light and closed the bedroom door. Caroline immediately began to dream of Monster, running through the fields with her. There was not an ounce of dissatisfaction in this household nor this little girl’s head.

The Reveal

Tyrone sat at his desk looking at a screen. The sequencing of the sample that Ninja had provided was complete. He was staring at it, and he had some inside info that something had transpired the night before at the ‘Fortress of Solitude’, but seeing the results in number that he could not dispute took his breath away. The door to the study opened and Ninja walked in.

“Good morning!”, he said, the look of satisfaction on his face was partly due to a sleepless night in the arms of Whisper and partly because he knew that the sequencing would be complete and that Ty had already looked at them.

“Good morning, superman!”, Ty leaned back in his chair and waved an arm at a tray with coffee and all the things that go along with it, “Sleep good?”

“Ummmm, no, but who cares!”, They both laughed at this.

“would you like to hear it now, or-“

” No, no, wait until Whisper gets here. She’s still in the shower…might be a minute.”, he said this last part slyly while leaning back in his chair with a fresh cup of hot coffee. They both smiled at this.

“How on earth….”, Tyrone was truly mystified.

“They call me Ninja for a reason.”

At that the door burst open and in strides Whisper surrounded in a cloud of total satisfaction.

“Well, I wouldn’t call you that in the bedroom, lover. You are all kinds of noisy!”

They all laughed at this.

“Oh my god, I need coffee!”, Whisper takes a cup from the tray, turns it over and fills it with the

elixir, adding some cream and sugar. She takes a sip on her way to the seat next to Ninja. As she walks behind Ninja she leans over and whispers in his ear.

“Oh, please don’t make me wait another three years, darling”, She kisses him on the ear and takes her seat. Ninja blushes a little and smiles.

“I have surveillance in your rooms, of course, but it was all turned off last night. I can just tell that nobody wants to see that!”

They all had a good laugh over this as they sipped their coffee.

“Oh, this is good”, Said Whisper, “Where ever did you get this?”

“I have a coffee plantation. I figured it’s the only way to guarantee I can get the stuff.”

“Well, job done, then”, She says as she takes another sip, “Bring some to Majorca when you visit, please.”

“Will do…. hey…are you ready?”

“I already, know, I was there.”

“Out with it”, Says Whisper

“Damien Stonefly. Confirmed!”

Whisper choked on her coffee and turned to stare wide-eyed at Ninja.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!”, she said, “makes me want to take you back down the hall, if I’m honest!”

“I’m impressed!, Said Ty.

“What can I say? All in a day’s work!”, Ninja was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Do you want me to proceed with the-“

“No, no”, said Ninja, “Freeze it ’til I’m dead then donate the proceeds- Yes! I want you to proceed!”

“Oh, man”, Ty leaned far back in his chair, shaking his head slowly and smiling, “This customer is going to be so excited. I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”

“It will be interesting to see just who the heir to the Stonefly fortune will be”, Whisper is enjoying her coffee.

“I love this part”, Ninja takes a sip

“you guys want breakfast?”

“God yes, we’re starving!”, both guests say in unison.

Ty laughs at this and looks at his desk where a display appears. He types something into it and it promptly disappears.

“It’ll take a bit. More coffee?”

“Yes, please!”, says Whisper, and she gets up and refreshes everyone’s cup. “I just love being associated with you two! Mmmm, mmmmm!”

Back to the World

Ninja says his goodbyes shortly after breakfast then returns to his room to change. Tyrone and Whisper hang out for a few minutes enjoying their coffee. Corey leaves by the south entrance in jeans and a T shirt. Thirty minutes later, Caroline leaves via the west entrance now in more casual attire, as well. Caroline is just a block away when her viz buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and looks at the screen. Words are creaming at her.

“There is an emergency with Tess’s foal. Could you make it out to Shadowlawn?”

“It’ll take me a while. I’m not local, at the moment”, Her fingers move in rapid, shorthand patterns on the screen of her viz.

“Well, what, exactly, does that mean?”

“I’m three hours away by car”

“The foal was born, and the mare is fine. Take your time….just get here.”

“Well, that’s not weird”, Caroline said out loud to herself as she headed for an air taxi stand. Climbing in to the air taxi she nearly shouted a the driver her destination. Shadowlawn Farms was well known and the driver needed no more explanation than that. The air taxi zipped up and out of LA so quickly and easily that Caroline almost didn’t notice they had left when the driver said they were just about halfway there. She had been looking at some classic complications with foals on her viz just to make sure she was prepared for anything. She had seen so many horses give birth, and most of them were pretty routine, so she wanted to make sure she was on her game when she hit the ground. Paula did not say much about the foal, other than that it had been born. If the mare is fine, and the foal has been born, what could constitute an emergency?

The air taxi touched down without event near the farm, but not too close to any corals and definitely out of sight of any horses or livestock. A farm truck was waiting for them. Caroline thanked the driver and jumped out of one vehicle and into the other with the ranch owner, Gideon.

“thanks for coming out, so quickly”, Gideon said as the two waked quickly to the truck, “I am at a loss, really. I don’t know how to explain it, so I’m just going to let you see for yourself.” The last part of that statement made Gideon chuckle just a little bit.

“Deformity?”

“Mmmmmmmmm”, Gideon’s head bobs and weaves a little as he tries to categorize the issue,”I am not really sure what this is, Doc. I just know that it’s…somethin’.”

“Somethin’….Well, that’s ominous”

“It’s different, that’s all I can really say”, Gideon smiles and nods slowly like he’s in on a practical joke.

“Okay, then…”

Gideon drives the truck with some urgency. It’s apparent that the horses are in no danger but the air of excitement is like static electricity in the air. Gideon was starting to look like his hair would stand on end with the charge in the air. They arrive at the farm proper and do not slow down until they are at the stable where the truck nearly slides to a stop. With one smooth motion Gideon shuts off the truck, unbuckles his seat belt, and jumps from the truck almost as if it’s still moving. Whatever is happening, Caroline was catching the buzz and jumped from the truck. Both of them were almost jogging to the stable. The foal is nursing when they walk up to the stall. Caroline stops and leans against the gate to watch. The foal looks healthy, at least from the rear. Momma had cleaned it and the animal looked strong. the mare turned her head to look at Caroline, then snorted and gave her a nod before turning her head back to give her new baby boy a flick or two of her tongue.

“Okay, so….four legs. Momma has taken to it. He’s nursing. Why are you so worked up over this?”

“Just wait”, Says Gideon, the smile still making it seem like there is a practical joke in the works.

“Right. Well, foal watching it is, then”, She leaned on the gate with both arms, waiting for something to strike her as odd. The foal finished milking and came up for air. As the foal backed up and turned its head, Caroline’s back straightened, her arms dropped to her side, and her mouth opened up a little and a noise came out.

“Where are his eyes?!”

Gideon points at her while touching his nose. He had been watching Caroline, not the foal. The look on her face is priceless. Caroline slowly opens the gate to the stall, walks in and closes it behind her. She is doing her best to be very quiet. She squats to put herself on the same level as the foal. The tiny horse ‘looks’ around and, when the depression that is where his left eye should be is aligned with Carolines face the foal moves effortlessly in Carolines direction, coming to a stop just short of Caroline’s reach. The foal sniffs at Caroline from a safe distance, then closes the gap to her and lets her touch him. She places her hands on both sides of the little guys head. He is a beautiful thing, this little guy, with the obvious exception that he has no eyes. She strokes his nose, then scratches him behind the ears. After they get to know each other a little, Caroline moves to investigate the ocular cavities, which don’t appear to be ocular cavities as much as flat places where the eyes should be. They are not sunken, as they would be if they were just covered by flesh. The foal jerks his head out of her hands when her fingers get close to the ‘eye sockets’.

“Oooh, sorry, little one”, She continues her examination, gums are nice and pink, he feels like he is the right temperature, she runs her hand along his stomach to the umbilicus to check for abnormalities. Everything about the animal seems fine. She gives the little guy a gentle push that sends it back to the mare. He walks up to his mothers front left hock and nuzzles into her as carelessly as any other newborn foal. Momma bends her head and gives the little guy a nudge and a few licks. Caroline straightens up and continues to stare.

“So…..”

“Yeah?” Says Gideon, still grinning in amazement.

“It’s not anopthalmia, There’s no deformation around the ocular cavities, more like….”

“…like there is something in their place?”

“Huh……”

As they watch, the foal turns his head toward Caroline. She squats down again and remains quiet. The foal walks directly to her without hesitation, stops within nose-length, then reaches out and effortlessly nudges her face with his soft nose. She runs her hands along his face again.

“How do you suppose he is finding his way around so confidently?”

“You’re the Vet.”

“True. But you’ve had all morning to watch him.”

“I couldn’t tell ya”, Gideon shook his head slowly. “maybe you would like to run some tests?”

“I’ll run the usual, but, it’s obvious the eyes are missing. Has he been nursing all morning?”

“Yep. Didn’t take him long at all.”

“Just keep an eye on them for a couple days. Call me if anything goes wrong, like the mare turning on him.”

“Will do”, Gideon and Caroline both stare for a minute at the foal, then slowly turn back to look at each other, “Weird, yeah?”

“It’s definitely interesting!” Caroline heads to the tackle room where she keeps a bag just in case. She often gets calls when she is somewhere she can’t get to her own bag or mobile unit. She goes about her business in the stall, taking the foal’s temperature, treating the umbilicus, inspecting the placenta. Everything looks and feels normal. “did you get any urine?”

“Oh, yeah. I put it in the cooler in the tack room.”

“Perfect”, Caroline thinks for a few moments before asking, “Who all knows about this?”

“The eye thing or the fact that Tess is GMO?”

“Both.”

“Well, two of my hands know she is GMO. They won’t say a word.”

“Good. Are you willing to set on this for a while?”

“We have a window”, There are some rules when dealing with Genetically Modified Organisms. First things first, however, no GMO is legally aloud to propagate. This rule was laid down hard when brakes were taken off CRISPR way back when the real monkey business with genetic modification started. The makers of all things GMO reduced their risk by insuring that any animal produced with genetically modified DNA would be sterile. This mare, obviously, is fertile. Tess was designed to make a great walker, something she excelled at. Caroline wanted more time to study this…aberration for herself. If they notified the Union, Tess would be whisked away for immediate destruction…or worse. Both of the animals would be. Everyone understood the magnitude of this kind of situation, and why a GMO would be destroyed over such an abnormality, but it doesn’t change the fact that Tess is as much a horse as any other horse at Shadowlawn, complete with personality…and now with her own foal.

“I would like to study this for a while. I think the Union will understand, as long as we don’t let this go on too long.”

“All good with me”, Gideon gives her a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Okay, cool. Well, keep Tess and the foal isolated for now. I’ll check back in next week.”

“Want to stay for lunch?”

“Sure. I’ll call an air taxi for after.”

“If you’re not in a hurry, I can have my daughter drive you back. I know those things are pricy.”

“Oh, I’m billing you for it!” She laughed

“Oh, I know, and that’s cool, but if if you’re not in a hurry, I’d rather pay for the hydro than the air taxi. Plus I am sure that Lindsay would find something to do in LA before she heads back to the farm.”

“Okay, great! What’s for lunch?”

“Trout, I think. At least, that’s what I asked for”

“Oooh, love trout”, Caroline pulled off her leather gloves and stuck them in her back pocket, “How long has this ranch been in your family, Gideon?”

“My great grandad built this place. He loved cattle. Of course, oil is where the money came from, then hydro.”

“Your family’s company made one of the few successful pivots to hydro early on, I hear.”

“Yeah, Grandma was no dummy. She knew that oil had to replaced with something. Batteries just seems like such a waste of material to her, plus we know refineries and chemicals, bu battery manufacture is a whole different ball game. Coming up with ways to store and ship huge quantities of hydrogen was not much different than LP Gas. It just made more sense, I guess. Sure did allow us to plow on.”

“How did you tackle the efficiency problem?”

“Well, if you look at the efficiency in terms of energy in and energy out, splitting water is not very efficient when using electricity, however, if one uses solely renewable energy-clean energy, well it’s not really the efficiency that counts.”

“I’m a biologist not a chemist”

“Well, if you used some resource like natural gas to power a plant that provides the electricity then you aren’t really solving any problems-not long term, anyway. But, if you use solar, wind, and hydroelectric power to give you the juice, then you keep all those gases you don’t want out of the atmosphere. That’s the important thing. Of course, water scarcity in many places makes the idea a tough sell, but if the generation of hydrogen is localized, then you put the water back into the atmosphere when you use the hydro.”

“So best to split water and use it in smaller geographic areas?”

“Yeah, exactly. The Dutch already committed and had some great technology. Remote stations, say in the middle of the Mojave, could run on solar and split water 24/7. When someone stops by for a fill, there’s hydro.”

“That sounds like a massive infrastructure project”

“The word ‘massive’ doesn’t do it justice. There was a lot of political resistance, as with any big change, but grandma had a way with politicians. Corn collapse helped to spur things on.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, things like the dangers inherent in massive monoculture are a lot for the average person to try and make sense of. The denial that most people expressed about that sort of thing evaporated when store shelves started to empty out.”

“I can’t even imagine. I grew up on a Union farm- loved every minute of it- and we had to study some of the history all the way back to the twentieth century.”

“I bet that was fun for a kid”

“I found it fascinating. Just the idea that people could willfully commit themselves to the destruction of civilization as they knew it, whether it was the climate science or agriculture, it’s hard to imagine a world where more than half the world’s population could completely ignore all the educated people that study those things in favor of lobbyists and political opinion.”

“Pretty crazy-huh?”

“Fucking nuts is what I would say”, They both chuckled at this.

The two walk up to the farmhouse where various hands and carpenters were busy with one thing or another. Two women were working on a large deck addition on one side of the expansive house. The farmhouse at Shadowlawn is not very old, but it was designed to look that way. The house was mostly made of stone covered in brick, then whitewashed. Floor-to ceiling windows with multiple panes and sweeping views gave those inside expansive, somewhat distorted views from the way that the glass was manufactured- a throwback to a very old time. At night, the windows made the house glow with a warmth that radiated from the house, spilling in a cross-hatched pattern, elongated across the meadow. Horses don’t bring this kind of money to a ranch anymore. Very rich people that love horses is what brings a ranch like this into the world. Gideon’s family started this ranch over 200 years ago with money mostly made from the dying gasps of the petroleum era.

The world didn’t run out of petroleum, but some point in the 21st century it became obvious that fossil fuels were antiquated. Hydrogen, despite the early emphasis on battery powered vehicles, became the obvious alternative. Fuel cell vehicles and hydrogen turbines were refined. Traditional batteries, such as lithium-ion, proved to be so wasteful that an alternative was needed. The Dutch committed to it early, then hydrogen, more commonly called hydro, became the front runner. One of the few US companies to make the successful pivot from petroleum to hydro was started by Gideon’s Great Grandfather. Gideon, his ranch, his holdings…old money now. 120 years later the air is cleaner, roads are not as noisy, and air taxis have taken a lot of local commuting off of surface roads.

The drastic reduction in population made the world a quieter and, somewhat more thoughtful place. Ireland went from a population of over 11 million before the potato famine to just under 4.5 million in a very short amount of time. The Irish, being cautious and conservative people, were more careful after the Irish Holocaust. The Emerald Isle population never again crossed the 5 million mark.

The wider world, beginning with the formation of The Union, took notes from the Irish. The global consensus is still about avoiding the unsustainable growth and consumerism of the post World War II era, once called a boom, it was now called a failure of leadership. Dwight David Eisenhower warned everyone in his famous speech about the military industrial complex. He said that it would become so large that it would control everything. The military was run by Generals and Admirals appointed by the President of the United States. Sometimes these Joint Chief’s of Staff were appointed with the knowledge that they would do the president’s bidding, or in some cases act without the knowledge of the president, giving POTUS probable deniability. The phrase ‘probable deniability’ became the get-out-of-jail free card for every war mongering politician or military officer. The military industrial complex drove consumption. Countries were invaded to suppress the spread of communism, when the real goal was to protect resources abroad…thus allowing us to consume until we consumed ourselves, like an ouroboros…a snake eating its own tail.

There are historical accounts of ancient civilizations that built massive wealth then abruptly vanished. Many of these civilizations or cultures dried up when the resources dried up, or when the ruling class became greedy and people were divided into the have’s and the have-nots. The citizens would tire of that quickly and just vanish. The world was bigger back then. One could wander off and start their own life somewhere else. The world was vast. When consumerism pushed the manufacture of goods all over the planet chasing cheaper labor and more relaxed environmental laws human nature allowed this only to last in a place until people got fed up and left, a middle class was created that didn’t want to work for slave wages, or resources in the region were used up or so badly polluted that those operations would move on. The business school emphasis on growth year-over-year ate up the planet. Once human civilization reached global proportions, with the expectation that a good life could be had anywhere, there was nowhere left to go when the resources ran out. When the blight hit corn, everyone felt it. When soybeans met the same fate, it finally sunk in to even the most diehard evangelical, that God is not coming back down to do a damn thing for his creation. Eden would be better off if humans had never entered the garden.

Gideon and Caroline entered the dining room. A modest but gorgeous wooden dining table was set out with baked trout, asparagus tips, and cold garlic potatoes. They sat themselves without ceremony.

“Thank you for lunch”, Caroline said, forking up the last of her trout, “I haven’t had trout this good in years.”

“Oh, well you’re welcome. The pleasure is all mine, really. I admire you, Doctor Touhey.”

“Yeah, how so?”

“You love animals, so much so that you made veterinary medicine your whole life.”

“True story.”

“I have had a legacy thrust upon me. I’m not complaining, though. I am a fortunate man, but aside from some passions, like this ranch, I never had what felt like, I dunno, a calling. Even the ranch was already here, just so happens it’s my favorite place.”

“I have always loved animals. My ma and I would tae turns reading aloud. James Herriot was a favorite of mine.”

“I’ve not heard of him. Good read?”

“Oh, it was for me. His novels and stories are based on his life as a veterinarian in the English countryside in the early twentieth century.”

“Wow! Sounds interesting.”

“I’ll loan you my copy of ‘All Creatures Great and Small’, if you promise to read it.”

“I’d like that”, Gideon was finding her more interesting by the minute, “Can we talk about the foal?”

“Yeah, mind blowing, yeah?”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.”

“We should have expected something odd, given the fact that Jesse isn’t a natural horse.”

“Do you have any idea how this could have happened?”

“Any feelers I put out haven’t come back yet. A synthetic horse would normally have no ovaries.”

“Yep.”

“So, doesn’t it make you wonder? Could this have been caused by some natural mechanism of evolution or survival that forced a gene or two on during mitosis?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, now that is interesting. My theories all involve something more nefarious.”

“Oh, I have too. The eyes, though.”

“Or lack thereof.”

“Yeah, the absence of. I could swear that foal could see me.”

“He gets around pretty good for a blind horse.”

“What if he is not blind? I mean, he doesn’t have optical sensory organs like us, but, this could be a completely new sensory organ…or maybe some engineer spliced in some obscure sea creatures genes such that the horse would have this new way to see, for lack of a better term, the world.”

“Yeah, and I’d have to agree. It would have taken far too long to explain all that over the viz.”

“Oh, I don’t mind! This is the weirdest thing I have ever seen.”

“Let’s keep this quiet.”

“Absolutely!”, Caroline said, “Who all knows about this?”

“Just you and I, but I can’t be here all the time to take care of the horses.”

“You’re hands?”

“I might have to furlow a couple loudmouths, but they can always find ranch work. They’e fine guys and great workers, just soooo talk so much.”

Caroline laughs at this. She doesn’t know the particular gentlemen Gideon is referring to, but she knows the type. Lot’s of fun in a bar but you wouldn’t want to marry one.

There isn’t a penalty, exactly, attached to the fact that a synthetic horse became pregnant. There are some, however, that would be bent out of shape about it.

“You know what the first irrational leap will be?”

“People will immediately jump to the: ‘What if this could happen with a human symbiant?'”

“…and the witch hunt will begin.”

“I can’t even,” Gideon waves his hand before covering up his eyes, which feel suddenly tired.

“I have a friend whose a genetic engineer for Stonefly.”

“Would she be able to keep this a secret?”

“I didn’t say she, you said she.”

“How sexist of me,”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You just made the assumption.”

“Forgive me. He, then.”

“No, it’s a she. I’m just messin’ with ya’!”

“Seriously?!, Gideon leaned forward quickly as he said this. He took it well.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, I’ve reached out to her but she hasn’t reached back. Give it a bit.”

“Love to here what she has to say.”

“You and me, Gideon, you and me both.”

They finish their lunch with small talk. Caroline finds herself wondering if Gideon was any good in bed.

Ninja

Corey Leggit was born near a big city. Not in the city, but just close enough to get a feel for it’s crumbling misery. People would wander out as far as his little hamlet and they always looked completely lost, like they wanted to be free of the city, but they didn’t really know what that meant. The majority would have a borderline panic attack as the bodegas and the bars dropped away. Some would stay, or move on farther out, but most seemed to be content with the idea that they ventured out- “Hurray me!”- and head back before too long. Most people just love familiarity.

“The fresh air is nice.” They would say over and over, not knowing how to classify the other aspects of rural life. The quiet was unnerving to many. The mosquitos and other myriad pollinators would get to them.

Corey didn’t grow up on a farm, but in a small factory town. A nice place to grow up. He was an athletic boy, then later an athletic young man. He was a wizard on the soccer pitch and women found him, well, most people found him…charming.

One clear, starry night in the fall Corey was out camping with his two best friends. They had a campsite that they treated like a sacred place. The three of them had been camping there for years, ever since eighth grade. This would be their last year of high school. They were lying on their backs, faces lost in the stars. Corey was in the middle, Gordo was on his right, and Davis was on his left.

“What is your favorite constellation?”, Gordo was the philosopher.

“Hmmmm”, Corey scrunched up one eye, “Pleiades.”

“How come?”, Chimed in Davis.

“It’s so recognizable. The first time I noticed it I got out my dads binoculars and took a closer look. The Seven Sisters…but what I saw first was a big question mark.

“Deep.”, Said Gordo.

“Yeah. I always find it a little bit funny that when we look up at the stars and wonder, all the questions that swim around in our heads, and then we come across this question mark…like the stars are turning that question around at us with a giant, Billions year old collection of stars that point out that the universe might be just as confused as we are about the whole thing.”

“I feel like we should be high for this”, Davis remarks as he pulls a joint out of shirt pocket and lights it up. He takes a deep pull and holds it while passing the flaming roll of laughing lettuce to Corey, who takes a healthy chestful of the stuff and passes the dutchie, as the song goes, to the left hand side. Davis exhales and thick cloud of smoke and begins to speak during the exhale, as all good potheads do.

“I like Maui’s Fishhook”, He says, having read up on Hawaiian mythology he wanted to put it to good use in a conversation.

“Scorpio, to some of us”, Shot back Gordo.

“Open your mind, dickhead!” Davis was smart, but still a teenager. Corey laughed as he let out his own cloud of reefer madness.

“Alright, Tiki Guy”, Gordo shot back, “Go on.”

“I just love the store of a warrior god that pulls the big island out of the sea with a giant fish hook. It’s epic!“

“That trip your parents sent you on affected you, dude!”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful there!”, Davis was gone for a while, in his hoalie mind.

“What about you, Gordo?, Corey prompted, “What’s your favorite constellation?”

“Orion”, Gordo said, then just stopped, obviously waiting for a beat.

“…Go on, professor Gordo.”

“It’s early November, right?”

“We have calendars.”

“Well, Orion, the hunter, is just coming up over the horizon and it’s almost 2300.” Gordo was building to his point, but not quickly, ” In January, when the days are short Orion is almost directly overhead around 2100.”

“Signifying?”, Davis asked

“Signifying nothing, really, but I find it comforting, for whatever reason, to look up in the night sky and see Orion overhead. It’s as if he is standing guard over us all…like a sentinel. Orion just looks bigger than life in the middle of winter when the days are short.”

“That’s cool”, Corey said.

“Yeah, I like it, man” Davis said while he blew out another cloud of weedhalation.

“Winter can be tough, dudes”, Gordo said, “I start to lose my mind by the first week in March. Wet feet. Heavy clothes. I find the whole thing unnecessary, really.”

“Wait, what? Unnecessary?”, Davis found the whole idea absurd, “How would you rearrange the calendar, bud?”

“I would make the whole year eighty-five degrees and mild….like SoCal.”

“You could move. That’s what most people do”, Corey said

“Oh, yeah, I guess that’s easier than restructuring the planet’s weather system!”

Davis and Corey erupted in laughter after which Davis began to cough his smoke filled lungs out.

“I want to sail the sees, man,” Gordo said, sitting up and becoming animated, “I want to smell the salt air, feel the wind in my face-“

“-Puke your guts out for days in heavy seas,” Davis liked to point out all the possibilities, not just the romantic notions, “The sea is always trying to kill you.”

“That’s what they say,” Corey played the mediator.

“I know I could die, but what’s the point of living if one does not test his mettle?”

“Or her mettle,” Corey pointed out.

“That’s understood, because saying or writing he/she or he or she sounds ridiculous!”

“I’ll grant that,” Corey was in a verbal sparring mode.

“I have grown up in the cold, wet north. I want to see the world and I want to sail ships.”

“Then go do that, dude!”, Davis had his voice back, “Nobody is telling you what to do with

your life.”

“I know….I guess I just get excited when I talk about it.”

“That comes across”, Corey was beginning to nod slightly, as if something was on his mind.

“What about you, Corey?”, Gordo asked, “Is there any particular thing you want to do?”

“Steward”, Corey said matter-of-factly, ” want to be a steward.”

“Steward”, Davis was sitting up now, looking at Corey with a look of interest.

“Yeah, man. I want to be a steward”

Gordo was shaking his head slightly, “Dude, that’s heavy shit man.”

“Well, maybe it can be”, Said Corey, “-but I look at it as the protector of all that we know.”

“Nothing about that sounds heavy to you?”

“hey, someone has to do it!”, Corey was obviously passionate about Stewardship.

“That is true”, Gordo said, feeling it was his turn to play the advocate, “But why you?”

“Why not me?”

They were all sitting up now, Gordo with his arms crossed over his knees, Davis and

Corey sitting cross-legged. They all sat for a few moments, taking in the night air and thinking

how fast the future was coming at them. Senor year was like drinking from a fire hose. The

three of them were under the delusion that graduation would mean the end of that feeling, but

They would soon find out that life was basically a firehose in your face pretty much all the time,

the trick is to not drown.

“Would you be willing to kill?”, Gordo asked, sounding as unemotional as he could.

“Oh, c’mon, dude, they’re not murderers!” Corey hadn’t really thought of that aspect of the job.

“-But they do, on occasion, take a human life….or lives”, Davis had his face scrunched up in

that way that is intended to show that you just thought of something obvious.

“Well, yeah, in extreme cases-“

“Define extreme”, Gordo said, head cocked and turned slightly in Corey’s direction.

“When there arises a specific threat to society such that it can’t be mediated, mitigated, or

corrected any other way, well-“

“-you shoot the bad guys?!”, Davis was concerned for his friends immortal soul.

“If you read Babbage’s ‘The End and Why did it took so long’ you can understand that greed will win over if the world is ruled by money. Greed is what killed 4.5 billion people. Scientists knew we were heading for a cliff for centuries. Politicians and entrepreneurs did their best to not only ignore them but to engage in propaganda campaigns in order to convince people, the consumers, that it was all a lie. None of them died during the great starvation,” Corey was visibly angry.

“So, what…just shoot anyone who wants to make lots of money?” Gordo was incredulous.

“That’s not what I am saying. What I am saying is that we can’t let the same thing happen again. The need to purge someone is rare, and often they just do some prison time if they don’t respond to corrective measures. We can’t leave our world up to the people that would start the cycle of greed and destruction all over again.”

Davis was nodding his head ever so slightly, “I hear you, man. The world should operate for the betterment and health of all people, not just for the financial benefit of a few ultra-rich.”

“That is what The Union is all about”, Corey stood up now and began to pace and use his hands for emphasis, “I mean, just go to a city and look at the ruin. The resources that were used up for those temples to consumption nearly killed off every human being on the planet! We are natural creatures, just like the birds and the fish, but we forgot that. We forgot that our lives are intertwined with the natural world. People discounted the destruction that was taking place in the natural world all around them and thought that they could simply ‘manufacture’ some way around the consequences. Rich people sold them the oil, sold them the cars that burned them, made mountains of plastic that is with us today and will be for many years to come! It’s in our nature to be competitive. It’s also in our nature, some of us, to go find more of everything than everybody else and then force them to come to us for our own profit. If we don’t guard against these forces, they will take over, just like they did before.”

Gordo and Davis looked sideways at each other in a ‘is he for real’ kind of way. Corey was known for being passionate about certain things but this rant about becoming a Steward in order to keep the world safe, well, this was new to both of them. Davis took a deep breath.

“Hey, look dude, I hear what you are saying, but why are we just hearing about this now?”, Davis was on his feet and now also gesturing with both arms. Corey stared at him for a second. He turned his gaze to Gordo whose eyes were also somewhat wide, then back to Davis who shrugged in as an alternative to repeating his query.

“I’ve thought about this a lot…it’s not something new.”

“I guess the reason we are so shocked at your passion about this is that you are, like, ‘Mr. Cool’ “, Gordo was looking at Corey with a head tilt and squinty-eyed expression.

“Yeah, I know I’m usually pretty calm, but this has been on my mind for a long time. Remember that family whose farm had a few bad years? What was their name?”

Davis and Gordo looked at each other.

“Falstaff. That is their name…the Falstaff’s. This was a bigger deal than most people think.”

“…Because?…”, Davis was lost.

“The Falstaff’s ran a farm successfully for 5 generations. They are good at what they do and aligned well with the Union. Several years ago, they had a bad summer season.”

“It happens.”, Davis replied.

“Yeah. Sure. We have all seen a bad season, but that season was seen by some greedy developer as an opportunity. The developer had some powerful and influential friends. This developer wanted the Falstaff’s land. He used his influence to convince AgBank to deny them a bridge loan to get them through the next year. The next year, the farm struggled because they were operating on all cash, and they ran short. The crops that were successful at all withered in the fields because when harvest time came they couldn’t afford the hydro to harvest.”

“Keep going.”

“The Falstaff’s had applied for credit from AgHydro but they were denied.”

“Well, they seemed like at bad risk at that point”, Gordo hadn’t followed that story much.

“Bad risk?”, Corey was squinting incredulously this time, “Walter Falstaff is an accomplished farmer, a pillar of the community. He had never required this kind of assistance before. He is also of a seasoned age, you know? Not some foolish kid…Big family, lot’s of experience and some of the hardest working farmers in Virginia.”

“So what’s the big reveal?”, Gordo was genuinely curious.

“The clincher is that the Developer, Maximillian Strogaer, has a son, William Strogaer who just so happens to be Chairman of the Board at AgBank.”

“So, you’re saying that the Strogaers conspired to ruin the Falstaff’s farm so that they could scoop up the land when the farm failed”, Davis had not followed this story.

“Exactly.”

“What makes you think that this wasn’t just a series of coincidences?”, Gordo was playing devil’s advocate.

“Because the Falstaff’s appealed to the Union. When they did, an investigation revealed written communication between Maximillian, William, and the local sheriff who just happened to be…”

“….married to the daughter of William Strogaer,” Davis suddenly recalled this from an article he had read.

“The Union stepped in and helped the Falstaff’s out. AgBank was forced to remove William Strogaer from the Board of Directors and pay restitution to the Fallstaffs in the form of a grant in an amount that put the Falstaff’s back in the black. The sheriff was removed from office and black-balled from any work within the law enforcement community. Max became persona non grata in virtually every institution that was important to him. How can you trust a guy that would purposely drive a business into failure so that he could basically steal it out from under what is, by all accounts, a family that was successful for five generations?”

“Fair point”, Gordo paused and looked down for a moment. When he looked back up, he wore an expression of admiration and respect, “Is this what you’re going to do when you graduate?”

“Yep!”, Corey was resolute.

“We all have goals”, Gorda said, stepping forward, “But that kind of conviction might be what The Union needs.”

Gordo reached out his hand, Corey shook it. Davis stepped forward after and took Corey’s hand.

“Good luck, dude!”, Davis said with admiration.

The three of them stood together for a few minutes. Davis looked up to the west.

“There it is, dude….Pleiades.” They all turned to stare at it for a while, then silently began to meander about, digging out their sleeping bags and tarps for the ground.

“I’m all done!”, Said Gordo, flopping down onto his bedroll.

“Yeah, me too,” Davis did the same, followed by Corey who made no comment.

Corey joined The Union Steward Service one month after graduation. He became a paratrooper, then a raptor pilot. His idealistic view of the Union lasted almost as long as his six-year enlistment.

Major Corey Leggit walked down the Garrison Road that ended at the steps of Garrison Headquarters. The road was not paved but laid with crushed stone. The crunching from his aviator boots was rhythmic and steady. Corey was tall, lean, muscular and his face somehow retained a soft quality though his features were chiseled and his cheeks sunken. He had a bad habit of clenching his teeth when stressed, which may contribute to his angular features, but the Garrison dentist, known dis-affectionately throughout the command as Major Pain, had warned him that this habit was causing the enamel on his teeth to chip away near the gum line causing some sensitivity to cold drinks which always caught him by surprise. He had been called in to see the Garrison Commander. Corey had a pretty good idea as to the reason for which he was summoned. Colonel Klopsch was a hard man, known for being direct often to the point of being hurtful, but this wasn’t the Boy Scouts. A person in charge of a base with over six thousand troupes, three raptor squadrons, motor pools, and such might have to be severe. Enlisted men and women tend to need a little tough love from time to time, maybe even outright putative management practices at times. It’s hard to know what a person will respond to when they are out of line, but whatever got them back in line was not considered off-sides in garrison life.

The road didn’t exactly end at Garrison Headquarters but made a big circle in front of the building so that a staff car could make an easy drop off under the carriage port that insured that officers being dropped off would not be rained on or bothered by the hot sun, as apparently they are delicate. Inside the circle was a carefully manicured lawn edged by flower gardens. Running straight through the center of the circle was a crushed stone path. A pedestrian on the Garrison Road would take this path, and not the circular route.

Major Leggit was crossing the circle on this path when he looked up to salute the flag and saw Colonel Klopsch standing in the window, arms crossed, wearing a scowl that suggested this might be an uncomfortable conversation. Colonel Klopsch was a stout, muscular soldier who seemed almost as wide at the shoulders as he was tall. Klopsch was a wrestler, and a good one. He was unbeaten during his time at the academy and known to make grown men cry with a certain submission hold that would make his opponent believe that he was certain to die on the mat. The Colonel enjoyed asking new arrivals if they wanted to wrestle. The Garrison office had plenty of room for it and think carpeting with the union seal in front of the commander’s desk which was close enough to a regulation ring that he would use the seal as his mat. Some officers would agree to wrestle thinking they had no choice in the matter and that refusal would insult the commander, others occasionally would be cocky enough to think they could win. The cocky ones were the ones most likely to cry. He never asked women under his command to wrestle, as he thought that would be inappropriate, but there was on Captain who, during her first meeting when she reported for duty asked, after being dismissed, why he did not ask her to wrestle. He offered her the opportunity after she asked and she actually took him up on it. She was harder to beat than he expected, and he did not make her cry, though he tried- equality and all that. That officer went on to become one of the best raptor pilots he had ever seen. She was also the raptor pilot that picked civilian Corey off of the mountainside. Her idealistic view of the world didn’t last any longer than that of Major Leggit. When Klopsch asked Corey to wrestle, he responded that he would prefer not to a the moment but would enjoy grappling at a later time. Klopsch had never heard this before. He insisted that the new arrival agree to a time to meet with the Garrison gym, which he did. They ended up going two of three, since Corey, then Toluene Leggit, pinned Colonel Klopsch after asking for a second round. Nobody had ever asked for a second round before. After the third round, Klopsch having proven his superiority (though internally not sure of it) the two men had an understanding. Luetenant Leggit did not cry.

Major Leggit was climbing up the steps to front door when he heard a loud pop and he turned just in time to see a raptor auto-rotate in, spinning around like something was wrong with the tail rotor. Fortunately the landing didn’t look too severe and the pilot, whoever it was, performed the emergency landing well. He would check on them later. He turned back to the front door and the sentry opened it for him and saluted. Corey returned the salute and strode onto the quarterdeck. The quarterdeck was also adorned with the Union Seal, but one could not wrestle on this floor. Even walking on it was forbidden. The quarterdeck was made of polished granite and marble, the various parts of the seal being of different hued stones, and boot heals echoed as one took the path around the quarterdeck to get to one of the two curving staircases that led up to the second floor. One could take either of the two and end up on the same landing. Corey liked to take a different one than the last time he had visited, how and why he retained that information he still did not understand. The double door to the commander’s office was centered on the landing where the two curving staircases met. There was and open doorway to the rear of the building which led to a passageway lined with other offices along with trophy cases and historical artifacts that had something to do with Union history.

Major Leggit knocked on the big double door.

“Get your skinny ass in here!”, the Colonel shouted.

“Sir! You requested my presence, sir!”, Major Leggit stood at attention after clicking his heels together.

“Now cut that shit out!”, Colonel Klopsch came out from behind his desk and closed the distance between the two men with three long strides. He reached out his right hand to shake Corey’s and they stood close for a moment, hands clasped, eye to eye, each trying to break the others’ hand. Corey refused to let up until the colonel did. At some point the colonel just got bored with it and released his grip.

“Damned if you don’t have the wiriest hands I have ever seen. Get in her boy, sit down.”

“Thank you, Sir”, Major and the Colonel always did have a good rapport, “Is it safe to assume that you have received my letter of resignation?”

“Yep! Sure did.”

“Are you going to try and talk me out of it?”

“Why? Do you want me to?”, The colonel took his own seat behind his desk opposite the window from which he had watched the Major approach.

“Well I might feel unloved if you didn’t”, Corey said with a sly grin. the Colonel pulled out a bottle of desk whiskey and two glasses, poured two fingers in each and handed one over to Major Leggit.

“Retention is certainly part of my job, son, but look here”, the colonel’s face took a serious turn, “I’ve been a steward for almost thirty years. I’ve been married twice, I have five kids I barely know, and I can’t imagine doing anything else. If you ask them, I’m a shit father, and they’re probably right. My two ex-wives just couldn’t compete with my sense of duty, I guess. If I am honest, I would say that it’s more like I love what I do, maybe too much.”

“And the reason for this foray into your personal life, sir?”

“Damnit, Leggit, your one of the finest men I know. Hell, you’re the first person to beet me in the ring!”

“Three times now”, Corey said, taking a sip from his glass.

“Whose keeping score?”

“I am.”

The colonel gave the Major a steely look that said he was about to lay a beating on him. After a tense moment, his face broke and they both began to laugh out loud.

“Major, your one of the best. Hell, you might just be The Best, who knows.”

“Thank you, sir”, Corey looked down for a bit before looking up again, “I have enjoyed serving under you tremendously sir.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit.”

“Seriously, Colonel, you’re a fine leader, and a forthright man. I have always appreciated your style and the fact that we always worked more as a team than a dictatorship.”

“Well, I have a rough manner, sometimes, but I like to think of myself as more of a mentor than your commanding officer, especially where you’re concerned.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, for one thing, you don’t cry when we wrestle.”

“I have bit my lip a time or two, sir”

“Yeah, well….so have I!” They both burst into laughter at this realization, “Look, Leggit, your a highly intelligent man. You look at the world a from a different angle and I admire that.”

“So, your not trying to talk me out of leaving the service?”

“Nope! Your better off finding a new career. I would be honored to serve with you longer, but if you feel that it’s time to go, then go!”

“Well, that’s very magnanimous of you, sir.”

“Magmani-pus is more like it, I’m gettin’ soft in my old age!”

“Your only forty six, sir.”

“See?!”, The colonel snapped. Leaning forward, he scrunched up his square face, tilting his head slightly, “How is it you know this?”

“Well, once in a conversation you went through a litany of tours, some dates were mentioned-and that you enlisted at age 18, and it was all just simple math, really.”

“No, not that simple. That is a word problem. Not only that, it was a spoken word problem, and it wasn’t a test, it was just a conversation!”

“I have a head for details, sir.”

“Like nobody else I have ever seen, my boy”, At that the Colonel leaned back, his face now wearing a look of admiration, “You might be the most intelligent person I have ever met, Major.”

“That’s quite the compliment, sir”, Corey’s head tilted up a bit, meeting the colonel’s gaze, “that means a lot to me coming from you.”

“Well, I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass.”

“Oh, I understand, colonel”, Corey raised both hands in a sort of ‘nothing up my sleeves’ gesture.

“Aside from being an exceptional pilot, you are also one of the stealthiest counter-insurgent tactician I have ever known.”

“Hence the call sign ‘Ninja’, sir. I used to sneak out of the barracks in boot camp in the middle of the night and walk all over the campus.”

“Ever get caught?”

“Not once.”

“Well, must come naturally, then”, Klopsch sat for a moment squinty-eyed, “There was that time that you were sent on a recce for a non-union, unsanctioned cattle farm.”

“I remember.”

“Of course you do, son, I would have told that story a thousand times….but I have never heard one bit of that story other than what went into my classified report.”

“It’s classified, sir”, Corey said matter-of-factly.

“Most of the stories you hear in the O-club are classified!”

“If you say so, sir.”

“I do say so”, the colonel’s face telegraphed that he was about to wax poetic, “You were sent on

an observation mission. You did what, exactly?”

“The order simply stated take a raptor out for an observation sortie to said farm. It was vague.”

“Jesus, stop stone-walling! I wrote the after-action report! You observed from a distance that would most likely not be detected, at least not without radar, then landed your craft, changed into your sniper gear and walked in-“

“-crawled in, sir.”

“Look, walked, crawled, for all accounts you might have levitated in, just hovering off the ground and gliding in like a friggin’ ghost!”

“I do enjoy a good good recce, sir.”

“recce, hell, when we arrived you had all five people zip-tied and gagged in the yard, and you were sitting in the shade, out of sight, with a rifle across your lap and a beer!”

“I saw illegal activity and I took it upon myself to act. It was irresponsible, sir.”

“Irresponsible, maybe. Impressive as hell, is what I call it!”

“thank you, sir. I must say, I enjoyed the op very much”, Corey took the last sip of his whiskey.

“Corey, I’m going to truly miss you!”

“I will remember you fondly, as well, sir.”

At that, the Colonel stood up, signaling that the meeting was over. Corey stood, placed the glass on the colonel’s desk, and shook his hand. The colonel pulled the major in close.

“How about one more match?”

Corey looked at him for a moment, then spoke.

“Fine.”

The two men released their grips. the colonel started unbuttoning his blouse while standing behind his desk to reveal his olive drab T-shirt. Corey turned away from the colonel to remove his blouse and place it on the chair. This turned out to be a bad idea. Corey heard a boot on the colonel’s desk and turned quickly, spreading his legs and lowering his center of gravity and the colonel came crashing down on top of him. Corey had his arms up, however and caught the colonel as he fell backward and used his feet to catapult the colonel backwards over his head as far as the other side of the Union Seal. The colonel, being very catlike despite his bulk, twisted in the air and came down not on his back but on his feet which immediately propelled him back at the Major like a bull that just missed a matador.

Outside the receptionist, along with a yeoman, were listening to the grunting and crashing noises through the door, but also watching the action on the security camera.

“That guy scares the shit out of me!”, Said the yeoman.

“Which one?”, the receptionist turned to look at the skinny little yeoman with the birth control glasses, “Like you could take either one of those lunatics!”

“Fair enough”, countered the skinny yeoman, “They both scare the shit out of me!”

They went back to watching the match unfold. The whole thing took maybe fifteen minutes, which is an eternity, but ended with no crying. Nobody was pinned, the two men just exhausted each other. After some panting and deep breaths, the two men returned to their feet. The two turned away from each other and paced around, rotating various limbs and stretching out some of the more painful kinks. when they both caught their breath, they found themselves face to face in the center of the Union Seal. the Colonel thrust his hand out to the Major.

“God, I’m going to miss you, boy”, he wore a look of admiration and respect.

“Likewise, Colonel”, The major grasped the outstretched hand. This time there was less competition.

“Marion”, the Colonel said.

“Corey”, Ninja wore the same look of respect and admiration. He was going to miss the old man, “When you give up the life-

“-if”

“If you give up the life, reach out to me. I might have something going on that you would be a good fit for.”

“Of this I have no doubt.”

they looked at each other for a last instant, then released their grips. The two men put their blouses back on, straightened their gig lines, smoothed their hair, and Corey opened the door and walked out to see the yeoman and receptionist in a state of conspiratorial quiet. He walked over to the yeoman until they stood toe-to-toe and looked down into the yeoman’s face. To his credit, the yeoman stood his ground and stared back up at the Major.

“You guys see that show?”

“Yes sir” the yeoman answered.

“Good”, the Major nodded slightly, “Have that stream sent to my personal vis.”

Corey produced calling card and tucked it into the yeoman’s pocket.

“Yes, sir!”

the Major stepped back, the two young soldiers snapped to attention and rendered a salute. The major stood arrow straight and returned the salute, then turned and made his way to the stairwell, his boots echoing into the quarterdeck like a drumbeat.

Corey waked up the edge of the Union Seal and squatted down. He looked around the room then back down at the seal. He raised his right hand to his face, kissed his fingers then placed them on the seal.

“Good bye, old friend.”

He stood and walked out of the quarterdeck while a sentry held the door. The Major descended the steps and crossed the road to the path that crossed the circular lawn. he reached the center of the circle and turned to see the Colonel watching him leave. The Major snapped to attention and rendered a salute. the Colonel did the same. When he lowered his hand, he did so slowly; a gesture that conveys honor and respect. The Major returned the gesture in kind. They both nodded. the Major turned and continued his walk down the Garrison Road for the last time. He had a suspicion that Marion would stay in the service until his heart exploded after wrestling the latest arriving officer.