I'm going to do something here and ask you, the reader, to comment, critique, pick my story apart. I have been writing and rewrting this story since 1991...

The first go took me 6 months and was over 600 pages, hammered out on a old Olivetti manual typewriter, the kind that came with a satchel to carry it around. I had learned to type as a child on my father's old Olivetti manual that came with it's own hard suitcase so hammering on the keyboard was(and still is) second nature.

I presented my hubby with 600 pages of manuscript, proud of my achievement... and was crushed when he said it read like an outline.

In the intervening decades I have, I hope, grown a little as a writer and realized a few things.

One of those things is that i was trying to tell a story in novel length that demanded a much broader scope... It had to be at least a trilogy.Technology changed, the battlefield changed... everything changed and the story had to change with it. In the early 90's drone warfare was a dream.. Now it is a fact of life.

These things and many others that I cannot share(Spoilers) have given new life and meaning to a story that is both ancient and timely...

I hope that you can enjoy this story and take it for what it is... whatever that means to you.

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“I really love this place…”

The incongruous thought ran through her mind as they left the towering bridge that dominated the harbor behind, driving carefully through the sprawling yuppie haven the shabby little beach town of her birth had become. Outward they went, moving up the coast another 20 miles before turning off onto a sand road leading toward the marshes and eventually the shoreline.

The road was heavily washboarded making their progress slow to a crawl while the ancient truck rattled, creaked and groaned alarmingly. A few hundred meters into the thick forest the man driving paused for a moment while he turned off the lights and they both pulled on light amplification glasses. Their progress resumed for what seemed like hours, pulling onto ever smaller and more poorly maintained roads until at last they could go no further.

The two sat there for a moment, lost in thought before getting out of the truck and beginning to unpack their gear. A few moments later they set off on a barely visible track into the thick jungle-like forest which occasionally thinned out into areas relatively free of ground clutter… except for the long and spiky leaves of saw palmettos which seemed to seek out any available spot to stab or scratch. They had prepared for this as well as possible, being covered head to toe and even wearing gloves but the occasional spike still got through.

Their progress was almost silent, deliberately slow and gentle to minimize the sounds they made. The effort of moving in this way together with the burdens they both carried had them both slicked with sweat inside their clothing even though it was a chilly 70 degree mid March morning. Dense fog seemed to muffle what little noise they did make as they came to the edge of a tidal creek and set about unpacking the 2 person Folbot he carried.

Once they set it up they carried it to the water then stowed the supplies they had both carried inside the kayak. Folding paddles were unlimbered before the final item was added, a small motor on a frame which clipped to the rudder mounts. A metal clad line ran to the fuel bladder she had stowed on the bow. They hugged tightly before climbing into the kayak and silently paddling toward the ocean, their progress assisted by the outflowing tide.

For hours they paddled slowly, conserving energy as they passed out of the tidal creek and into a larger sound before threading through passages between islands. The transition to ocean was discernable only by the increasing motion of the water and they upped tempo for a while to push through and into longer and gentler swells. Once through they dropped to their previous pace and continued paddling east by southeast until they were 12 miles offshore. Even though they were technically beyond the limit and in international waters this was not the time to relax.

The small motor cranked easily and they moved on into the salty night air at double the pace of their previous progress. To any observer they were nearly invisible, even their heat signature masked somewhat by the nature of their vessel and the motor. They each felt comforted by the enveloping darkness as it muffled the storm of pain and loss, giving just the slightest distance from slavering demons.

“Do you think they made it?” Her voice was just above a mutter, enough to carry back to his ears.

“I’m sure they did Lynne… they are the two toughest people I’ve ever known. They left this setup for us when it became clear there wasn’t going to be time to get another and set out on jetskis after all!” He did his best to sound positive and encouraging even though he shared her dread.

“I know that Tom but… we haven’t heard anything for almost 6 months now and things are so scary back there… if they got caught they are in a camp right now and here we are running away!” She was crying softly.

Tom tried to hold back his own tears at the thought and didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“You know we had to go… we would be headed to a camp in about 5 hours if we hadn’t. A fly can’t fight the swatter, it can only escape.”

“Asshole…” there was no venom in her voice.

Silence fell between them again and they glided almost silently on through the increasingly large swells. When dawn came they pulled a cover over them that was ocean camouflaged to match the skin of the boat and reduced speed to eliminate any visible evidence of movement. They took turns dozing throughout the day, being careful to stay properly hydrated.

Darkness closed over them and with it relief from the heat of the day, aided by the breeze their increased speed generated. They were both hungry but limited themselves to 1 MRE each, dowsing the contents liberally with hot sauce and slowly savoring each bite. They only had 6 meals and it was a 60 hour journey to Freeport if they were lucky.

As it turned out they weren’t so lucky, 50 hours into the journey the motor died and could not be nursed back to life. They both paddled in turn, one resting while the other worked for endless hours but their progress had slowed to a painful crawl and by the time they finally saw land they were exhausted and dehydrated from almost a week on the water. They expended the last of their energy paddling to shore and pulling their much lightened kayak up into the edge of the treeline before collapsing in the shade.

Tom awoke first at a gentle nudge from a sandal clad toe. He blinked his eyes in confusion then started as he saw the round mustachioed face looming over him. He looked over to Lynne who was being similarly awakened by a pleasantly round faced woman.

“Thomas Campbell?”

The man’s english was heavily accented with the speech patterns typical of the Bahama’s native inhabitants.

“Yes? I’m sorry, how do you know me?”

The man offered his hand and pulled Tom to his feet. “I am Mateo Rolle and this is my wife Epolia. You were expected to make landfall much farther north! You two are very lucky, this is the last island before you reach the open ocean and it is officially uninhabited.”

Lynne was also on her feet and dusting herself off. “Well I’m really glad we made it here, the trip was a bear! Still, how do you know who we are?”

“Your wives have become fairly well known in the underground community. Smuggling goods in and people out is a major growth industry right now and our islands are getting very wealthy from it. They have been a big part of helping to ramp up the scale of operations and have been responsible for thousands escaping. Many of us know to look for you although no one knew when you might arrive.”

“Follow us, we need to get out of sight until nightfall.” The woman was already walking into the trees until she came to a door like a storm cellar set into the sandy soil. It proved to be quite heavy, opening only with hydraulic assistance and completely sealed when closed behind them. A short flight of stairs down and they emerged into a spacious area with comfortable seating and a light, airy feel. Arched doorways led in various directions and Epolia hurried through one while Mateo got them seated and a little more comfortable. She returned with unidentifiable fluid in large glasses which proved to be a somewhat salty, sweet chocolate flavor with a slightly grainy feel on the tongue. Lynne gave her a questioning look and she chuckled.

“Its pretty nasty stuff but you can’t handle regular food yet so drink this slowly and I will have something truly delicious for you in a few hours, ok?”

Lynne nodded and watched her bustle back into the kitchen. She turned her attention to Mateo who was already engaged in conversation with Tom.

“Epolia said Quinn and Elena are well known… do you know where they are?”

“No one knows where they are. They made contact with some of the bigtime characters down in Brazil a month or so ago and we have heard nothing since. I’m sorry…”

Lynne was a little wooden as she thanked him for his concern but Tom was on the verge of tears.

They both waited while he regained control with a visible effort, sipping mindlessly at the rehydrate liquid. After a few moments he leaned forward, glass dangling between his knees from one hand.

“Is there a way to get to where they went?”

Mateo took a few moments to consider. “I can get you partway and some friends will take you the rest of the way to Manaus. We will leave tonight and be at our rendezvous before dawn.” He heaved himself to his feet and headed for the kitchen.

“Now to talk my wife into making some sort of something edible for the trip…”

“Go do something you’re good at you… Man!!!” A deliberate sounding clash of pans came through the door. “Why don’t you make sure that monstrosity you love so much is ready to go?!”

“Be quiet woman, you’ll hurt Ziggy’s feelings!” He grinned as he riposted.

“You two feel like seeing your ride?” Mateo gestured them through another doorway, still chuckling to himself.

They followed him through a short passage and a watertight hatch to another open area, this one outfitted as a berth for what looked like a very stubby winged seaplane with two small jet engines mounted high on the tail at an upward angle. Another pair was mounted high on pylons at the bow. The cockpit was clear topped and looked quite spacious although it was obviously fitted for cargo.

Lynne tried to whistle, then wet her lips and succeeded. “Ok, did you mod a CYG-11 cause that’s sure what it looks like?”

He beamed with pride while Tom chuckled. “I sure did! I had to rebuild the entire tail area to fit the two aft engines and rebuild the front pylons for a little more height and to handle the added thrust. You’re looking at 4 Price Induction DGEN-410s, any one of which can keep the craft in ground effect mode with a full load. Run in this configuration I can do 290 knots at the bottom of what these engines think of as cruising speed so they just sip fuel.”

“I’m impressed! This is one serious piece of engineering!”

“Thanks Mrs. Prioleau! Coming from you thats a real compliment!” He was smiling even more widely now. “Don’t let my wife fool you, she did all the fairings. I built the structural members and refitted the control surfaces and we printed and built the engines together. Ziggy here is just as much her baby as he is mine, if not more!”

“Ziggy? As in Marley?” Tom looked vaguely interested.

Mateo chuckled. “No, Ziggy the old comic strip. She loved it when we lived in New York.” His expression darkened and his hand stroked the sides of the craft aimlessly. “Our daughter used to love it too...”

“What happened?”

“She married a Muslim woman.” His voice was flat, sharp edged. “They were among the first to be thrown into the camps… I cannot imagine they have survived.”

“Shit… I’m sorry. We stayed and got as many out as we could…” Tom took a long shaky breath. “We would almost certainly be in the camps or just shot and left to die if an old childhood friend hadn’t tipped me off about the new sweeps.”

Mateo had just opened his mouth when Epolia came bustling into the area.

“We have to leave now. The Americans have just taken Nassau and Freeport and Tamasha says it is very bad. Attach the external fuel tank while I make something for us to eat on the way.” She rushed back out of the room, leaving a stunned silence behind her.

After a moment Mateo shook it off and went over to a strange looking housing, gesturing for assistance. Between the three of them they managed to fit it over the entire top of the cabin and get it fastened down, plugging in a quick release fuel line. Mateo pulled a hose over and began running fuel into the extra tank, carefully fitting every possible drop in both it and the internal tanks.

By the time that was done Epolia had finished packing the food, cleaning up and changing clothes. They all took a quick moment to relieve themselves and then climbed into the craft. The engines spooled up, a piercing whine in the confines of the berthing space tapering off as a large section of wall pulled inward and then slid back inside the dome.

A moment later they pulled out into the slanting sunlight of late afternoon, slewing around and heading directly east at a speed slow enough to prevent them becoming fully airborne. They were still moving quite quickly and in a little over 3 hours they were 200 miles to the east. They were all thoroughly tired of the pounding they had taken from the floats skipping over the wavetops, heaving a collective sigh of relief as Mateo eased the throttle up and they took to the air.

He carefully kept them just above stall speed so that they flew just a few feet above the water, being as stealthy as possible. They turned southeast after another hour and the engines spooled up a bit further. They rose to 20 feet or so above the water before Mateo entered a few settings on the impressively cutting edge instrument panel and unlocked his seat, swiveling around to face the others.

“We will rendezvous with a cargo ship in a few hours to take on fuel. After that we will proceed to our next rendezvous just offshore from the northern mouth of the Amazon. We will take on enough fuel to make it the rest of the way to Manaus, flying along the river. After that we will see… I hope they can tell you something.”

“What are you going to do?”

Epolia lay her hand on Lynne’s knee and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Don’t you worry about us, smugglers always have work and we are very good smugglers. If you ever need anything… you drop a message to me, ok?” she slipped a small piece of paper to Lynne who memorized the address on it before eating it, hiding her motion by taking a sip from the bottle of water she held and wiping her lips..

“Thank you… and you, the same, Mother.” Epolia looked surprised for a bare instant before she held her features to an expressionless mask.

Lynne continued “You know who I am… and I… I know who you are… Mother.” The tone of her words was harsh and her repeated use of the title was loaded with venom.

“One day this will end. Until that day comes…” Lynne paused to calm herself and left the other woman hanging. “You and I are allies.”

“You can’t imagine how good that makes me feel…” she purred in return. “We have to put all that aside, just as you said. We have to fight the enemy we share or we will not live to fight each other.”

“Fuck you!!!!!” Lynne’s shout rang through the cabin, interrupting the conversation the men had been having.

“I’ve rescued girls from you and your people… Trans kids just like my wife… Kids you prey upon! You give them hormones and use them as drug mules… you give them a dream life until they get caught and spend the rest of their lives being raped in prison… and then you abandon them…”

Epolia was visibly agitated and after a moment of stewing she stood, crouching against the canopy. “Yes I use trans people for smuggling… I use all sorts of people for smuggling. For your information I simply give them the medical treatment they should have had. I give all of my employees full medical benefits… I have paid for over 400 trans women and 300 trans men to have their surgery because it is covered in the health plan I offer. I have paid a great deal more for transmen although I couldn’t tell you the number… health insurance standards and such so I don’t have solid numbers on either of those things.”

“The point is that I do the best I can and yes, some of them get caught… and some of those get sent to places I don’t have power. I don’t want anyone to be hurt but it is a part of the job. Why transpeople? To be blunt, I have more leverage. Many are hiding and those who aren’t are afraid… Most are poor… many are on the streets. I give them something better than what they have. For a long time that was enough… but now?”

“Now… if we do not fight we die. All of us. These people make the Nazis look like amateurs. These people make people like you and I discover that we are not so different after all.”

She took a breath a captured Lynne’s eyes with her own. “I named my first child Roger. I was wrong… I thought she was a boy because I didn’t know any better. What is a mother to think when she holds her baby and they have a penis? I realized I was wrong and that I had a daughter but it was too late… I had already abused my child and she ran away and one night a john killed her… she was hooking to get her hormones…”

She was crying, tears flowing down her face almost unnoticed. “She…. She died… a john beat her to death. I take them off the streets, they don’t have to fuck anyone they don’t want to… And yes, they smuggle for me and they make a lot of money for doing it. I am not a monster… I am a mother… I just want to help…to help kids who have no one to help.”

A pregnant silence hung between them, seemingly unnoticed by the men.

Quinn fought the stick, barely managing to stay airborne as her crippled plane staggered toward the jungle canopy below. She was practically standing on the right rudder pedal and still the craft crabbed to the left.

It was just enough… the plane slipped through what looked like a small hole in the canopy and was flying through a surreal green tunnel for a moment before touching down with a bounce and roll on a short and narrow runway made of rammed earth. The plane stopped just short of the green wall at the end of the runway and Quinn cut the engine, sitting there shaking for a few moments before she managed to clamber out and walk unsteadily toward a tiny building.

When she emerged a few moments later she saw a small brown figure walking around the plane, running his hands over the gaping hole in the left wing. He looked up as she approached and his worn face crinkled into a smile.

“You are one ballsy lady. I would have bailed. I can’t believe you managed to make it all the way here and land! Thank you…”

“You know no thanks are needed Felipe. I would have carried this here on my back if I had to. Now go, Rosa needs her medicine… and her father.”

“You are a saint…”

“Far from it my friend. Oh so far from it…” She turned and busied herself with a roll of aviation tape, roughly patching the torn skin of the plane’s wing.

“What the hell happened anyway? That’s a really big hole!”

“Yeah well they were shooting at me with a really big gun…” she chuckled. “La Policia don’t like it when you raid their infirmary…” deceptively delicate looking fingers carefully bent the thin metal back to lie mostly flush with the undamaged skin before holding it in place and covering the lumps with layers of tape.

“I think maybe I didn’t just hear that. You ever need anything, you mention my name, ok? I might be retired but no one forgets O Burro… and everyone knows I am in the debt of Beija-Flor de Aço.”

“Steel Hummingbird? Really?”

“Hey I didn’t start it…”

She abruptly turned and leaned down to give him a quick hug before climbing back into the cockpit. With a final wave she cranked the engine over, wiggling each control surface to make certain all was in good order. Within a minute she had disappeared back into the sky through the hole in the jungle.

The man feared by drug lords and heads of state alike shook his head, muttering to himself as he disappeared into the treeline.

She would have to avoid Rio Branco for a few months after that stunt but it was worth it to help a child who would have suffered horribly to her death due purely to the selfishness of the men who called themselves police. The cynical part of her that always figured every angle knew that having her father as an ally could help her to survive. She winged south and west and in another hour and a half Sena Maduriera slid beneath her as she continued another 15 miles to a hidden airstrip, this time having considerably less difficulty in landing.

As was standard procedure, she sat in the plane for a few minutes after taxiing over to a small parking area. She carefully climbed out after the prescribed amount of time had passed, acutely aware that at least 2 snipers had her in their sights. A single figure ghosted from the trees and quickly checked the aircraft over, signaling its emptiness to the others waiting before he straightened up and extended his hand to the much taller woman.

“Welcome to you Quinn Campbell. We are honored to host Beija-Flor de Aço but we were not aware you were coming. I am afraid I must ask you to come with me quickly. You will understand when you see.”

He plunged into the jungle at a near run and she followed, the same speed looking effortless on her larger frame as she silently loped behind. A few hundred meters later they burst out into a small ground clearing where the underbrush and the bottom layer of overgrowth had been cleared, leaving 3 layers of forest canopy intact overhead. Fairly primitive looking dwellings surrounded a central firepit and a few animals wandered around looking disinterested. It was a surprise to step through and into a very modern climate controlled dome and the cool refreshing air took a weight off the lungs that one tended to just ignore after a while.

Several other people were sitting around, staring at screens and frantically typing. A large screen dominated the room, displaying the outline of the southeastern US and the Caribbean. The map was crisscrossed with lines indicating courses and as they watched, one of the green lines coming from Nassau vanished.

“Is that…?” she couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice.

“That was an A380… almost 900 people. The Americans just shot it down.”

One by one traces disappeared and in her mind’s eye Quinn could see screaming passengers plummeting in flames toward the water far below…

At last there were no green traces, only the baleful red of American fighters and attack craft. The screen flipped over to a view of the Nassau waterfront, crawling with landing craft. A man’s panicked voice cut through the rattle of gunfire and the crash of heavier weapons.

“American forces have landed here in Nassau and Freeport. It looks like the soldiers are just shoo…”

Suddenly the camera lurched and spun to show a man’s face, a faintly surprised expression fading as a trickle of blood came from the hole in his forehead. The image cut out as he started to fall. Most of the video feeds in the room blanked until their users brought up feeds from elsewhere.

The deep dread that had driven Elena and her to flee without their spouses 6 months before flowered into a certainty in Quinn’s heart. The war she had seen coming for a decade now was finally starting and she could only hope beyond hope that Tom and Lynne had gotten out in time.

For now though, she had to get back to Elena and get her somewhere safer than Cuba.

Elena rose from her chaise lounge as the sun dipped behind a large palm, gathering her tablet and satphone data rig into a large carryon and slinging it over her shoulder. Another boatload of refugees was due from the Everglades just after midnight and she was, as always, nervous.

Thinking a drink might calm her down a bit, she strode around the pool and over a footbridge to the bar on an island in the center of the pool. She sat at the end away from the screens, unwilling to watch another football or baseball game. She didn’t mind either sport but after 6 months of them she needed a break.

She had just taken a sip of her martini before the bartender came up to her looking distressed.

“Dona, you must come see!”

“I don’t want to watch another baseball game but thanks Tomas… Can you get me something to eat?”

He was clearly agitated, as was evidenced by the fact that he actually grabbed her arm and tried to pull her toward the end of the bar mounted with screens.

“The war… it has started just as you said it would Dona! Please help me, my family… I know you can get out but can you take my children?”

“Shit… Tomas, lets see how bad it is before we make any decisions, ok?” In her mind she could not turn off the endless cycle of nightmares, all of which ended up with Lynne dying before her…

Tomas toggled his earbug to take a call. He listened for a moment, then took the bug out of his ear and handed it to her.

“Its for you.” She took the earbug and polished it off on her coverup.

“Elena Wachowski?” The voice in her ear was tinny, distracted.

“This is she?”

“Lynne… your wife sent a delayed message to you. She says “Anchors Aweigh!’”

“Please… when was the message sent?” Her face was drawn, lines creasing her forehead.

“We just got it… it was a time delay drop from almost a week ago.”

“Was there anything more?”

“Just that and the notation in Morse… DWKW”

“Fuck...” Her determined reluctance to cry deserted her and she sobbed on Tomas’s shoulder.

“That means they bugged out in the rig we left… Gods I hope they are ok…”

Tomas had switched over to speakers so everyone could hear the radio traffic.

“Wait, I’ve got something else... its very faint…”

For just a moment voices came clear through the ether.

“PAL 135 heavy, identify your passengers”

After a moment. “Are you serious? We’ve got over 800 passengers!”

“PAL 135 heavy, I repeat, identify your passengers. Look port and you will see your fighter escort.”

“PAL 135 heavy, we see the escort but do not understand your request. We can supply you with a flight manifest?” The voice sounded bewildered and surprised.

“Negative PAL 135 heavy. Supply us with an accurate accounting within 2 minutes or you will be shot down”

“You can’t do this! We are a civilian aircraft! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“PAL 135 heavy, instructions follow.”

A long silent moment before the flat emotionless voice of the fighter pilot came back.

“Pray.”

There was nothing more.

The horror show played out, the same as it had all over Earth, splashed across their screens and blaring through speakers that normally carried music, feeling almost distant until the shockingly sudden death of the reporter. The ensuing hours were a slow motion nightmare. Hours later she clung to Tomas, wishing desperately that he was Lynne and wondering if her love was even alive.

There was nothing sexual between them, just the sharing of warmth and hope... and a terrible paralyzing fear. Deep in the night his fear took hold and she woke to him tossing and crying… she could just barely make out “Mama… please mama… don’t make me go away… Why do you hate me mama?”

She held him, stroking his hair away and kissing him on his forehead. He quieted and began suckling on his thumb before she dropped off into a tortured sleep of her own.

Dawn brought nothing except a toll of the dead. The expected boat had not arrived and they could only assume it had been destroyed. She and Tomas had just risen and begun to address a breakfast of avocado with grapefruit sections, drowned in lemon juice and Italian dressing.

Brilliant tropical sun glared down outside the roofed over bar, dazzling the eyes with its reflections from still poolwater.

Elena reached across and clasped his hand, stopping its twisting agony. “Tomas… I will get you and your family out, ok? I don’t know where… maybe Manaus, maybe Punta Arenas. I know Quinn is on her way, we messaged each other last night. 1 am, we need to be waiting at the Marina Chepelin.”

“Should I go get them now?”

“Finish your breakfast first, we have to make everything look normal. When you go get them you should all behave just as though you are coming for a family day since there are no tourists to speak of. You cannot bring anything you would not normally bring on such a day. You understand?”

“Normal family day at the beach, got it. Nothing at all?”

“You can each bring one small thing but it must be easily hidden. Bring any food you have at home, packed for a picnic, you can cook it here or on the beach. No point in leaving it to rot.”

“Maria will not be happy.”

“Would you rather she face what will happen when the Americans come?”

He was silent while finishing his food and left without saying another word.

Elena spent a couple of hours trying to find any further information about what had happened in the Bahamas and growing increasingly frustrated so by the time Tomas arrived with children in tow and his wife carrying a large picnic basket while the two older boys carried a heavy ice chest between them she was quite ready for the beach.

She took the basket from Maria and embraced the diminutive younger woman, holding her for a moment and lending what comfort she had to give. She knelt and embraced each of the children in turn, smoothing tears from the cheeks of the youngest girl and fussing over her doll, fixing its yarn hair just so before tucking it back into her arms where she cradled it.

“Dona Elena, why do they hate us?” the oldest child looked up at her, clear eyed and alert, confident in her self expression.

She had to take a moment to formulate her reply. Alejandra was transgender like her, although her country’s government treated children and adults like her just the same as anyone else. She had grown up simply being normal, unlike Elena’s own childhood which had been filled with hiding, pain and fear.

“I wish I had an answer for you Allie. I think, maybe, that if I were able to understand them I would have to be like them.”

“How can you just not have answers?” Her typical young teen intransigence was kicking in. She had a mathematician’s mind, keen and clear but never satisfied with unquantified data and this obviously got up her nose a bit.

“Just the way the world is. Outside of a classroom or a pure theory setting you almost never have true precision.” Elena looked down into the young woman’s eyes and ruffled her long hair. “Now go get ready for the beach, I know you want to wear the new suit your mama bought you last week!”

The family trooped into one of the bungalows and emerged a few moments later in swimwear. Maria’s suit was a strappy affair that served to enhance her lush figure more than cover it while Tomas wore a similarly skimpy speedo thong that showed off his sharply chiseled darkness. All 3 boys wore something like board shorts and clutched body boards, eagerly gazing toward the beach.

The last to emerge was Alejandra, a little shy in the new bikini. The effects of her hormonal treatment were becoming obvious and she looked like any other 13 year old girl. She took up her youngest sibling’s hand and gently took the doll from her.

“You don’t want her to get wet do you?”

An exaggerated shake of the head was her reply.

“We’re just going to let her sleep inside while we go to the beach then, ok?”

That seemed to be ok and they went inside to put the doll to bed. By the time they came back out Maria and Tomas were engaged in a discussion and quietly asked Elena to take the kids down to the beach. She gathered the children and their boards, getting the two oldest boys to carry the ice chest again while Alejandra carried the basket in one hand and held to her younger sister with the other. Elena picked up a large bag of charcoal briquettes and brought up the rear.

Once on the beach she allowed the 3 boys to go out and play in the water with their older sister watching them as she enjoyed her own play in the gentle surf. Little Sofia wasn’t quite bold enough to go into the water, content with playing around at the edge and squealing as waves caught her bare feet.

The beach was completely empty otherwise. Elena set about getting the large grill going, using the entire bag of charcoal and a liberal amount of lighter fluid before leaving it to burn down a bit and joining the children in the water. The smallest boy had joined his little sister on the beach and they seemed to be enjoying themselves, talking in babble at each other.

The four of them frolicked while keeping a careful eye on the youngest siblings and by the time Tomas and Maria joined them the grill was ready to go. He busied himself being a caveman with the two youngers watching while Maria came into the water and joined in the play. Elena noticed her happy smile and had no trouble deducing what the young couple had been doing in the bungalow.

Seeing their happiness made her heart ache and she tried to keep herself from dwelling on Lynne and Tom and her own fear that they were lost.

“Elena?” Maria was the only one in the family that listened to her wishes and omitted the honorific.

She looked over but didn’t trust herself to speak just then.

“Thank you.”

That shook her out of it. “What?”

“Thank you… for everything.”

“I’m taking everything you’ve ever known away from you, how can you thank me?”

“Because you are saving the only thing that matters. I don’t care about things… well, ok, some, I’m not a nun after all…” She quirked a smile up at the taller woman as they stood waist and thigh deep in the surf. “My family, my children… They matter. Things are just things.”

“You’re taking this really well.” Elena looked over her head, unwilling to see the younger woman’s expression.

“I have known it was coming since before you got here. When Americans are fleeing to Cuba things are very bad. You being here helped me know that there was a way out when the time came and over the past 6 months helping you to save so many others… I just wish I could have done more.”

“You did everything you could… you have to put your family first.”

“What do you think I’m doing? I want my family to have a beautiful day together… we might not get that again.” She captured Elena’s hand and hugged her arm. “Now, Big Sister, shall we go see if my husband has completely destroyed the fish?”

He hadn’t and it was a beautiful day indeed. Their picnic was lavish and they all ate their fill at least twice, the boys managing 3 rounds. By tacit consent the adults had limited themselves to soft drinks as they needed their wits about them later. Sunset stole over the beach and with it the children’s energy seemed to abandon them. Alejandra led her siblings back up to the bungalow and they all rinsed off in the shower before falling asleep in a pile on the large bed.

Tomas and Maria disappeared into another bungalow shortly afterward and left Elena sitting on the beach, staring out over the waves in the direction of Florida. She had not seen her home for 6 months now and in the gathering gloom she wondered if she would ever see it again.

Hours later she rose at a quiet chirp, checked her tablet and went to wake them. Quinn had just sent the go signal and was due to land in under an hour. It was only a mile or so to the rendezvous but there were 5 kids to get ready, last minute bathroom trips required, all the normal things dealt with when preparing to travel.

All too quickly they were turning right onto the short remaining stretch of the Camino de las Antillas and leaving the car to stand at the water’s edge. The night was still, disturbed only by a light wind and moonless. It was impossible to tell where the canal through the mangroves was even though they knew it was directly in front of where they stood.

It was a surprise to them all to see the fat wedge shaped blended wing craft glide almost silently over the water with the small whine of a trolling motor. It drifted gently to just bump the seawall and Elena lowered herself onto the wing before going over and opening a hatch. The others had followed and she helped them through into the cabin before closing and dogging the hatch behind herself. She checked quickly to make certain they were all strapped in before proceeding forward to strap herself into the right seat.

She gave Quinn a thumbs up and got a nod in return. The trolling motor whined to point the nose back toward the canal, clearly visible in the light augmented HUD. There was a short pause as the motor retracted into its housing and the engine start sequence began. Seconds later the buzzing whine of 3 powerful turbofans spooled up and they began to move over the water, gaining speed quickly. Soon they lifted into the air but Quinn kept them within 10 meters of the surface while their speed steadily increased.
Moments later she eased up a little further into the air and suddenly the ocean was replaced by farmland, mostly darkened but visible in the HUD. 20 minutes flying low and fast over Cuba and the ocean replaced land again. Quinn held altitude to under 100 feet for another half hour before she added throttle and they rose quickly to 40,000 feet while the airspeed indicator read 603… just over .9 mach.

“Wow, the new fans really help!”

Quinn grinned in return and engaged the autopilot before unlocking her seat and swiveling around. “Yep! We’re actually cruising at 80% throttle but there’s no way this airframe will go any faster.”

“I got a message from Lynne…”

Quinn’s face was stone.

“I got one from Tom too… they left a week or so ago in the Folbot rig we built. I haven’t heard anything else.”

“Maybe no news is good news?” The plaintive note in her voice tore at Quinn’s heart.

“I think no news is no news.”

“You’re a real stonehearted bitch, you know that?” The smile on Elena’s face belied her words as she drew Quinn into a hug. “I’m so glad to see you. It felt like I was just waiting for the hammer to drop, you know?”

“We can’t go to Manaus.” Quinn’s voice was muffled against Elena’s shoulder.

“But… that’s the last place we had on our contact list! How are we supposed to find each other?”

“I left messages but… I had to burn a Lurk and it turned out he was the local Baron’s nephew. There are people there, people I trust… Tom and Lynne will be taken care of when they make it there and they’ll be able to follow us. We have somewhere else to go anyway.”

“Where? I don’t understand Quinn, what are you talking about?”

“You won’t believe it.”

Quinn turned her attention back to her instruments while Elena stared into the darkness, listening to the soft sounds of a sleeping family and feeling lost, hopeless…

Thick dust crept beneath her hijab and Laila bit back a curse. Cairo, she thought, had not been this bad last time she was here. No matter, it was infinitely better than the hell she’d left behind.

Not that she was totally convinced she was out of hell. Perhaps she was simply in a different circle? She wracked her heat-blasted mind for a moment before giving up that train of thought. It was just too hot for Dante.

That one brought a smile to her lips. Right now a frosty beer would totally hit the spot but finding that particular form of alcohol in today’s Cairo was next to impossible unless you had serious money. Other things… not so much. Beer wasn’t even a problem if you didn’t mind drinking it hot.

She detested even slightly warm beer, always had. Her years in the middle of wars and upheaval had also taught her to be circumspect and as a result she’d developed a liking for exactly the thing her hostess was currently preparing. She poured tea back and forth from one pitcher to another, holding the top one high and generating lots of foam. It looked showy and of course she added flourishes and curlicues to the procedure but the real purpose was to cool the tea by evaporation. The addition of grain alcohol helped that along and resulted in a drink that was… well, not exactly cool but certainly not quite so hot.

It had the added benefit of being strong enough to strip paint. Her hostess did not wear a head covering since Egypt was a more or less secular country but Laila didn’t stand out at all by wearing one. If anything it helped her to blend in and eased her access to the secret societies women formed in this part of the world. In many ways it had become a part of her identity after so long and she even found herself occasionally missing the complete cover provided by a burqa. You could hide an armory under those things!

“Look, Malia, you have to tone it down a bit, ok? This woman is not your servant and even if she was your father wouldn’t have approved of your tone!”

The young queen looked down and scuffed a toe in the furrow she’d already made.

“I know… I just miss him so much.” She scuffed her toe in the dirt again. “I’m sorry Samira, I should not have spoken to you that way.”

A cup of frothing semi cool tea appeared in front of her face and she followed the hands that held it to see the smiling face of the younger woman.

“I did not take offense Your Majesty.” She looked around at the subtle change in the courtyard. You wouldn’t see it if you didn’t know to look for it but if you did you knew the look of a team on the razor’s edge of a possible firefight, trying not to show it. A grin crept over her face.

“The Queen is known and welcomed here. There is no need for alarm in the home of a friend and you are indeed in such a place. Here you may rest from your labors in safety, at least for a time. Our sisters are more than capable of ensuring your safety. Your parents were much beloved among the sisterhoods.”

The air of the room immediately relaxed and Laila could just hear muttering from one of the other women.

“Well ain’t that a fuckin pip! Here we are trying to hide the brat and first place we go, they know exactly who she is within 5 minutes!”

Laila thought about saying something but just as she opened her mouth Malia cut in.

“So you’re blaming me for standing out, you overgrown She-Hulk? I’m not the one propping my size 14 combat boots up on a table and picking my teeth with a freakin sword! Goddamn redneck!”

“She Hulk? This skin is beautiful dark chocolate, not green! It is not a sword, it’s a tactical knife! And…” Aisha slipped her hijab back onto her shoulders and scrubbed at her close cropped hair with one hand “Being both black and from Queens I’m not even sure I can be a redneck. So there!”

The good natured banter flew for a moment and the tension level in the room decreased noticeably. Laila looked around at her team, noting with approval. The first few months had been tense, women from different traditions and backgrounds, none but herself from the Sisterhood of Umm ‘Ammara and trained in the art of protection. Oddly enough the Israelis were the most easily integrated component while there had been rather… vigorous friction between the various Islamic Sisterhoods.

Laila had her own opinions about what the Prophet might have thought of their group but she kept them to herself. The views of her Sisterhood were far more radical than they allowed outsiders to know, even trusted ones such as her team. Their view of faith was closer to Sufism than anything else despite their roots in the mountains of the Hindu Kush and they welcomed free women of all beliefs or none. Sexuality was no bar, nor was having come to womanhood by unusual routes and as a result there was a very high proportion of lesbian and trans women.

At least 4 of her team were trans, she knew that for a fact. She strongly suspected that the barbs between Aisha and the queen were sexual tension and wondered just how that was likely to play out before dismissing it from her mind and focusing on the next step. One night in Cairo before they had to get moving to be at Zafarana. Another day to lie low at the Sahara Inn before they snuck aboard the yacht that would get them out without being seen even if anyone had managed to trace their movements.

From there they would make their way out into the Arabian Sea and onward to Adelaide. They had a week to make it over 8,000 miles in complete secrecy and she wondered, not for the first time, about the wisdom of taking the sea route. Still, it was what they had and even that had been unexpected.

They had encountered a group of women and children on the way to Cairo and had assisted them to their destination, protecting them on the way. At the end of their journey it transpired that one of the women was the daughter of a very wealthy man, a man who had gained entry to the EU but could not risk leaving even for a day trip in a yacht once there. When he realized who they were guarding he made a gift of his yacht, telling them where it was moored and providing access codes to the boat.

Still, they had to get there along a hundred miles of lawless road and she had nearly reached the end of her resources.

Another woman ghosted into the room, seeming to almost dwell within shadows. Her eyes flicked toward the young woman who was serving the team with the fiery beverage in a gesture clear to Laila and she nodded imperceptibly, almost chuckling as the other woman’s eyes widened in surprise.

“We must leave now Kwaja! The direct route is already blocked so we will have to detour up the river to Sawl and then travel cross country. I have already arranged for 2 cars in Sawl but we have to leave right now! The city will be locked down within half an hour.”

For Nasrin that was a regular speech. The woman rarely spoke more than a few words at a time and always covered her face. She had come to the Sisterhood after the man who bought her as a child tired of her and cut her nose and ears off. She had taken to the life of a warrior with alacrity and become the most devastating fighter Laila had ever seen. She moved like smoke, struck from the shadows and vanished before her target even realized they were dead.

Nasrin had made an exception for the man who disfigured her. Laila shuddered a little as she recalled the week it had taken for him to die. Finally grateful to gasp his last, a flayed skinless wreck shuddered to oblivion, accompanied by a shrilling warble of hate. It wasn’t as though she didn’t understand after all, she had been brutally beaten before escaping to the streets of Miami and being kidnapped to become a sexual toy for a wealthy Sheikh.

He had her remade from the dysphoric boy she had been to the woman she became, something she had dreamed about. She had not dreamed of being enslaved, property to be used and abused and that had fueled her hatred until one night she had enough and simply snapped, drawing his ceremonial dagger with slow caution and carefully hovering the tip over his heart before throwing every ounce of her strength and weight onto him, driving the dagger through his heart and into the mattress beneath.

He never awoke, dying with a weird rattling sigh beneath her and leaving her terrified. She had no idea where in the world she was, just that it wasn’t in the US and there were mountains all around. She escaped from the compound in the silence of predawn and made her way into those mountains, poorly dressed and prepared but free. Her second night freezing in the merciless crags was so desperate she thought about going back down to the town to seek some sort of shelter but fear and common sense prevailed and she shivered on, falling into a fitful sleep just before dawn, hidden in a gully.

When she awoke it had warmed considerably but she had something new to worry about. She had looked up in fear at the group of veiled figures surrounding her, unable to understand their speech. They had taken her in, brought her to the sisterhood of Umm Ammara’ and given her purpose. She trained with them in mountain fastness, learned to be a warrior instead of a frightened young girl and grew to become a leader of other women, always the protector she had determined to be.

She was fluent in… she didn’t even know how many languages and dialects. She had bounced all over parts of Asia, North Africa, most of the Middle East but never back to North America. There was nothing left for her there. Her life was to protect other women, avenge them if necessary, free them when possible and in her own quiet way do honor to Allah.

While she’d been woolgathering her team had reacted with practiced efficiency and were ready to move, waiting for her signal. Nasrin ghosted back out and a moment later a quiet click signaled the others to follow. The young woman who had been serving them fell in with them, pulling out a hijab of her own and donning it.

They slipped out and through dark alleys, nearly silent forms moving with practiced ease. Within a half hour they were slipping aboard a darkened boat whose motor purred quietly, propelling them up the sluggishly moving river at a walking pace. It took them nearly an hour to clear the city proper and another before they were able to safely add speed, their pilot strange looking in her old light amplification goggles.

Soon they were back ashore, the lights of Sawl glimmering off the Nile as their pilot hugged Samira and then shooed her gently off the boat before backing away and vanishing into blackness. The young woman came over and gestured for her attention.

“Mother Halima says I am to go with you. She says I belong with Umm Ammara’.”

“You belong with loving parents, child.”

“Allah lm fa'innah…”(Allah did not will it.)

“He did not take your parents from you child. Men did that. Allah wills no evil to the innocent, Peace be upon Him.”

“I do not want peace. My way is clear now. I will serve with the Sisterhood of Umm Ammara’. I will fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. I will prove myself worthy to carry that name, Inshallah.”

She glared up into Laila’s face, hijab down around her neck again.

“Khoonee gandagee!” Laila swore under her breath in frustration.

“What?”

“Nothing… get in the car already.”

The cars were old Mercedes diesels, large and heavy but In seemingly good repair as they only rattled a little on the equally well maintained Al-Kurimat/ Al-Zafrana highway. They met almost no traffic on the 3 hour drive and soon were in Zafrana. Plans had changed along the way since there were yet 2 hours before dawn and there was no reason to risk staying in a country that was rapidly disintegrating into warfare.

Laila used a laser aiming device to signal the boat’s crew and was rewarded by a silent launch ghosting over the water on trolling motors. They quickly and quietly boarded leaving the cars at the water’s edge, metal ticking as the desert night stole their heat. The launch slotted into its position in a notch in the fantail and was lifted out of the water to bring the gunwhales level with the decking.

They disembarked and were quietly ushered belowdecks before subdued red lighting came up, illuminating a man who gave new meaning to hook nosed. She was a little nonplussed when he bowed deeply before introducing himself in a highly accented mixture of Arabic and English.

“Hānim …” He bowed again. “I am your servant for as long as you will have me. This vessel and others owned by my employer are now yours to do with as you will. May the wisdom of the Prophet aid you always, Peace be upon Him.”

“Raban alssafina, kunt takrim 'akhwati.” (ShipMaster, you honor my sisters.)

His careworn face broke into a broad toothy grin and his eyes glittered. “Kunt al'akhwat sharaf 'ajdadi.” (Your sisters honor my ancestors.)

The ancient words spoken, their bona fides established, he switched back to English. “May I know what is our destination, Lady?”

“For now, the ocean. Once we are well away I will provide you with a heading. It would be better if no one noticed our departure.”

“As you wish. The tide is still running strong so with your permission I will weigh anchor and allow the current to carry us. We will need to either hoist sail or use the engines by dawn.”

“Engines once we are far enough away to be unnoticed. It would be nice to feel your lovely ship take the wind in her teeth Captain… but time is not our friend.”

“As you command Lady.” He disappeared toward the bow.

Her team was already sorting out accommodations with a sharply uniformed steward and within a few minutes they all had their gear stowed, each keeping a favored weapon or few on their persons. If their boarding hadn’t been noticed they wanted to make sure their presence remained hidden so they all stayed belowdecks.

Hours later the deep rumble of engines began to vibrate the hull and for a minute or two the rush of water under the keels could be felt before the craft rose up on its hydroplanes and went skating over the waves. The team set a watch and sacked out long before Laila found her way to the bridge.

The captain looked around at her near noiseless tread and flashed that smile again. “Your team may move freely belowdecks without being seen. All glass is mirrored and armored and there are armored shutters built in. Yarada is quite safe.”

“Flying Fish? What an appropriate name. I have seen boats of her class but none so large or so… well equipped.” Her eyes swept over consoles, noting state of the art instrumentation and control systems… and a few spaces where instrument panels could go but which were covered with rich wood panel.

“You may have seen similar vessels but Yarada has no peer. It is my hope that you will not have cause to discover her full capability this day. Have you eaten Lady?”

“Your steward provided a delicious meal to my team, thank you.”

“And the Queen?”

“You know?” From fairly relaxed to humming nerves, ready for the need to do violence.

“She is… distinctive. As much so as yourself, Lady Death.”

His words should have pushed her even closer to the edge of violence, instead she found herself taking an empty seat, one of the ones with an instrument panel but no instruments.

“How do you know who I am?”

“Al'iikhwat albahr(Sea Brothers) all know of you. The American woman who was once a boy, then a slave. Who took her vengeance and vanished into the arms of the Sisters. Who became Mother and went on to destroy the Taliban, root and branch. It is said that one day a righteous woman will arise who shall cleanse the world with her fury and bring justice to the downtrodden.” He didn’t look at her while speaking, his attention on the screens in front of him and on the greyness of dawn outside.

“I am no righteous woman, captain.”

He didn’t respond for a while. “And I am no righteous man. Not in the eyes of the mullahs and I fear not even in the eyes of the Prophet, peace be upon him. Still, I do the will of Allah as I understand it and you do the same. I cannot think this would be considered evil.”

It was almost an hour before she spoke again, simply sitting there watching the grey turn to sunrise as the boat flew through the straight and into the Red Sea. Land quickly dropped away and they were surrounded by a glittering expanse, steering occasionally around merchant ships.

“If I were this woman, would you stand with me?”

“I am your servant, Lady.” The ancient words of fealty fell into the humming silence of the bridge.

“I did not ask if you would stand behind me and I do not want a servant, ever!” Laila realized she was almost shouting and lowered her voice to a normal speaking tone. “I asked if you would stand with me. If your Brothers would stand with me.”

He was clearly amused at her reaction but quickly sobered under her glare.

“I will stand beside you, as will my brothers. Our ancestors swore this long ago and we have kept our oath. As long as any Sister draws breath we are your faithful…” he trailed off.

“I was going to say faithful servants but the original oath uses a different word… aldaaem(Support). So… As long as any Sister draws breath we are your support. We stand with Lady Death, Inshallah.”

“Inshallah” she responded automatically. They sat there in silence until the Captain rose from his seat, to be replaced by a sharply uniformed crewman.

He offered her a hand and she took it, finding herself pulled effortlessly to her feet.

“I am informed you did not eat with your team. Will you do me the honor of sharing my table?”

For some reason she couldn’t define Laila found herself looking into his deep brown eyes and couldn’t manage to tear her gaze away. It seemed like an eternity before she was able to reply.

“I will be honored to share your table. Thank you Captain.”

He led the way and she followed him down into a very cozy stateroom, large enough to contain both a seating and dining area in a separate compartment from his bunk. Laila couldn’t help noticing his broadly muscled back and shoulders or the firm globes below them and wondered at the unfamiliar feelings they generated within her.

Once seated covered plates were quickly put in front of them and the steward withdrew. A barely remembered smell wafted from the plate as the captain removed both covers and her mouth watered, hard.

“This is not Halal.”

His eyes danced as he took a bite of the succulent pork. “I think we have already established that neither of us are particularly righteous and I am certain you have not had this particular dish for many years. I thought you might like a taste of your childhood.”

Laila slowly took a small shred in her right hand and inhaled as she brought it to her lips, lost in memory. She popped it in her mouth and was overwhelmed by the sweet spicy mustard sauce, the way it accentuated the flavor of slow smoked pork , the crispiness of the outer bark.

“How…?”

“Our galley is quite well equipped.” He reached into a hidden refrigerator compartment and pulled out 2 bottles, working the wires holding the cork in place until it came free with a pop. “I am informed that this goes well with beer and I just happen to have some good Czech brew.” He took another bite and chewed for a moment, then chased it with a sip of beer before he sighed in pleasure.

“It appears I was informed correctly!” He noticed that she had yet to move, slowly chewing on her morsel, eyes closed and tears running down her face. “Lady?”

She heard him but didn’t. Memories swelled over her… memories of childhood, carefree playing in the sunlight and cooling evening, the smell of marsh permeating everything. Later, the same smells but no longer carefree, no longer playing. Beatings and torment, outcast, friendless. The reasons she had fled to the streets… The reason she was here, now.

Part of her wondered if somehow this had been her fate all along. Was she destined to truly be the Lady Death of the old prophecies? The question itself unlocked a determination within her, that she would follow her destiny, embrace it.

If she was to be the incarnation of Death then she would make the world quail before her. She did not know if her fury could even cleanse her own soul, much less the world, but she swore an oath to herself right then.

“If this is my destiny, I accept it. Lady Death I shall be, Inshallah.”

Laila didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until the captain replied. “Inshallah.”

He proffered a napkin and she wiped at her face before looking up into his eyes again.

She took another bite of pork and a swallow of beer before sighing in pleasure of her own and relaxing, tension she hadn’t realized existed draining out of her muscles.

Through the porthole they could see another merchant ship, looking like it stood still in the water as Yarada flew past. Food and light conversation were as always a superb social lubricant and she found herself liking this man more and more. As they took their leave and she fell into her own bunk, lightly inebriated she wondered…

“What the hell am I doing?”

Gaia’s Children, Book One, Riven, part 4

Katya drew her coat around her as the damp bitterness pried icy fingers into her small shelter. Her path from Belgrade had been long and hard, hiding in the blasted ruins of Kosovar homes, venturing from cover only in the depth of night to avoid snipers and wandering bands of murderous Serbs intent on genocide. At first Belgrade had seemed so much better than Mereshor but the Russians had come there too and just like at home in Ukraine, they had slaughtered any who spoke against them.

The trek through Kosovo and Macedonia had been a little less dangerous in some ways since she was no longer in an active war zone but the route through untamed parkland avoiding contact with other humans and hunting for food when she could had been brutal in its own way and the strain showed in her face and body. She knew she had lost easily 15 kilos since leaving her home in Ukraine but in many ways that made her feel better as the bulk was a legacy of her teen years when she had tried so hard to be one of the boys.

It wasn’t the loss of muscle mass that made her grimace at her body, it was the fact that along with that had gone the nascent breasts and the added padding on hips and butt that had reinforced her tattered self-image. Now she just looked like a half starved human with no real cues as to her gender. Even her hair had been sacrificed to the exigencies of survival, hacked off to add a layer of camouflage as she sought anonymity and safety in ugliness. She took a quiet pride in the fact that it didn’t do much good, that even through the grime and deliberately unkempt appearance she could not manage to look male. If anything starvation made her features stand out even more but she hadn’t been close to or spoken with another human being for nearly a month and there was no such thing as a mirror in her very limited and survival focused world.

The faint beginnings of light showed her the lake below and for a moment made her think how beautiful the world could be, took attention away from the cold and from her gnawing hunger. Just 3 more kilometers before she crossed into Greece but still she would not be free. Her looks would mark her apart from the locals and if they found out the rest… she might not survive. She would need to make her way much further south before she pressed her claim for refuge as a citizen of Greater Europe to have any sort of decent chance and even then…

Even then she wasn’t really properly European but they were apparently making Ukrainians welcome now as long as they joined the military if between the ages of 18 and 55. The European military was inclusive so her transgender status wouldn’t be an issue and she had a major grudge against the people who had destroyed her home, killed her father and brothers and destroyed everything she knew growing up. Signing up to stand and possibly fight against them was not just a way to find refuge, it was a need, a hunger felt more keenly than mere physical rumblings. She was incapable of lying to herself, telling herself that she had no need for vengeance but that was not all of it. She truly wanted to stand for a better place, for freedom in a world where the former bastion of freedom had become a frightening monster.

For her, that meant becoming a soldier for “Fortress Europe”. The opportunity had not been available when she and hundreds of thousands of others had fled through Romania and Hungary or up into Poland and even if it had been she had only been 17, too young to join. They had been forcibly moved along into non EU territory which in her and many other’s case had meant Serbia. At the time it had at least seemed like a kindness. There was no help offered but at least they had not been forced back into the slaughter their homeland had become.

The lake below was larger than the one she could see from her window as a child, far below her bedroom window with the evening mist just beginning to obscure the shoreline. Still, she was able to allow her mind to wander a little, to those days when she had finally told her father about herself and he pulled her into a gentle embrace while they both cried over the loss of her mother so long ago, a chasm of grief unbridged for so long by two people trying to be strong for the other.

The months after had been the best times she could remember since her mother died. Her father was overjoyed at learning he had a daughter. He had been quite worried as he watched her sink further into depression, to withdraw from the little social contact she had. He knew the signs, he had seen comrades just shut down that way and they very rarely came out of it except in a box. He himself had trod that path and the only reason he pulled out of it was his child.

The next week he took her to a doctor in Lviv who tested her and interrogated her for hours before providing an implant which would bring her hormonal levels into normal female range. She was to return every 6 months for the first 2 years for testing and every year after that for the next 8. There had been 2 return visits before the war came to Lviv and any sort of normal life came to an end.

She had been insulated from the war in many ways even though she could not remember a time when it wasn’t going on. It had always been far away, beyond Kiev… practically Russia anyway. The war was over there, no concern of hers.

Until it became her concern. Until she couldn’t go to her doctor’s appointment because he was missing along with half a city of people. Until the men in masks with no insignia on their uniforms killed her father and most of the men in town for making a stand when they stole everything in town. Until she held Sergei while he bled out his life and told her he loved her with his last breath.

Then there was nothing left to do but flee. She did not even return home but lost herself in the mountains and began making her way south. It had taken her a full week to make her way 100 kilometers to the Tisa river and into Romania. For nearly another week she kept to the forest although she felt able to move during the daytime instead of having to stick to darkness. She had been able to hunt a little along the way and foraged as she could so she wasn’t exactly starving but the overpowering smell of food cooking finally drew her from the forest.

Hunger and loneliness made her a little reckless and anyway, she had a few hryvnia in her pocket, surely enough to pay for a modest meal. She took a critical look at herself and decided there wasn’t much she could do short of a bath and laundry then casually strode out of the forest, across the road to sit at one of the covered tables outdoors. A girl not much older than herself approached.

“Bine ați venit la Cabana Bradet. Ce ai vrea?” she waited expectantly while Katya decided she should order something.

“Cyn?” she looked up at the girl and saw the subtle change in her expression before she switched to English.

“I bring you better than soup, wait.” She disappeared inside and a moment later came out with a steaming plate and a large mug topped with froth. Katya took a cautious bite of the wrapped leaf dish and was surprised by the sourness and spice. A questioning look brought an explanation. “Sarmale, mamaliga, beer. Tourist like.”

She sat down and leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “It is not safe for you here. Many people do not like refugees, think you are dirty criminals who steal and commit crimes. My uncle can help you get to Belgrade but the men he works with… they will use you.”

The expression of terror must have been clear on Katya’s face as she tensed to escape. The other girl touched her arm gently. “Not that way. They will use you to carry drugs across the border. You look young and innocent and half starved, the guards will not even ask for papers. You deliver where you are told, payment in Euros. The money is good and you will have better life than hiding in forest like rabbit.”

The girl had been truthful and the men who worked with her uncle were simple smugglers, nothing more. Mostly they were family men and abhorred the flesh trade so she wasn’t really exposed to that side of things, although she did find ways to obtain her meds and began to fill out again. She also used a good deal of the money she made to prepare for what she knew would be the next stage of her journey. Warm clothing, a good hunting bow and tools to make repairs and arrows, extra boots and socks, knives, fishing gear and snare wire, a small tent designed to blend with the woodland, firestarter… all the things she knew she would need when the Russians came

When they did come it was fast and hard and she found herself watching from the hills as the city was overrun with shocking suddenness and brutality. Her habit of nesting in the hills outside the city in a shelter she had made warm and comfortable was her saving grace that day and gave her a place to hide until darkness when she forsook her refuge and struck out southward, bound for Greece. Now, 3 months later, she was only another 200 kilometers away from the recruiting office in Athens, could literally see over the border into Greece and she was afraid.

Until now she had run, hidden, avoided conflict whenever possible and here she was, terrified but marching toward a destiny as a fighter, one she could no more run from than she could run from the horrors that played in her dreams at night. Through her terror though… there shone a note of pride. She had made this journey on her own, had proven herself and she would never let anyone take that away from her.

It was fully dar now and time for her to move. She slipped carefully over a ridgeline and then crept across what seemed like a barren open valley before making her way back into a treeline, now free in Greece. Simply having crossed the border did not decrease her level of stealth though. She knew what it could mean to be caught be the locals, being who she was and coming from where she had. It would take at least another week, possibly 2 before she could simply walk into the depot in Athens and sign her name on a recruitment form.

She eased on through the terrain, remaining invisible until an hour or so before dawn when she found a hide for herself and settled down to get some sleep.

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

Malala had been fleeing in terror for as long as she could remember. At first she thought the Chinese soldiers would be different to the Bengalis she had learned to hate and fear and in some ways they were. They showed no interest in raping her, did not care if she was not completely covered and seemed to want to be kind.

All the same, they saw the countless starving and mangled innocents and forced themselves to look away. She felt somehow that she should have been angry at them, should have hated them for the devastation they had wrought upon her home, her village, her family. Sometimes late at night she wondered if she had entirely lost the ability to hate.

What then was left of her, emotionally? Was she only part of a human being, half a soul? Had this war shattered her so utterly?

Whatever the answers to her existential questions, she had found part of her journey to freedom quite comfortable thanks to an old merchant seaman who had taken pity on her, perceiving her to be an ordinary young teen girl rather than the transgender(but no less ordinary) girl she actually was. The broken language they shared made her think that she reminded him of his daughter.

Once they grew near to the Suez Canal things changed for the worse in a drastic way. The merchant was killed and his ship taken. She barely managed to slip over the side and clamber down a mooring line, hiding in the shadows beneath the pier until darkness mercifully covered the scenes of chaos.

With the concealment offered she was able to slip over the side of a small boat and hide herself until it stopped outside of a town she learned was Zafrana. She half swam, half floated to shore and spent 2 days creeping through the desert with no food(by no means a new experience for her), drinking her own urine, employing every trick she knew to simply appear as a part of the blowing sand and now she saw her goal, her escape.

Malala watched the faint images of 2 boats making their way to shore and silently made her way to the edge of the water, slipping in as stealthily as she could manage. It took everything she had to make her way to the large yacht and clamber up into the launch as the others returned and made their way into the boat. She found a small piece of tarp and covered herself, starting when she felt the engines thrum after some hours and then being lulled to sleep by the constant note vibrating in her bones.

Malala did not know what to expect when she awoke, rivulets of sweat running down her body under the airless shelter of her piece of tarpaulin. She was afraid of being treated roughly, maybe of being used by the men in the crew for their pleasure… but the last thing she expected was to find a pair of comforting arms helping her up and into a dimly lit and blessedly cool air conditioned space.

It was a moment before she could focus and realize that those arms belonged to a tall woman who might possibly have been the best model of female physical fitness she had ever seen. Oh she was undeniably sensual and every inch female but those same curves bespoke power and grace far beyond any sort of human norm.

It was clear in her every movement and posture that here was violence incarnate, held on a hair trigger.

After Malala had wet her mouth and managed small sips of blessedly cool water she finally found the words her mind had formulated moments before but which taken time to reach her tongue. “You are her?”

“I suppose that depends on exactly what you mean. I was born a boy, became a woman, freed myself and other women. I was given the name Laila by my slave-masters. Little did they know the power they bestowed upon me with that name. Now I am the scourge of the world. Allah has set it upon my head to see that his true message of love and tolerance is spread, as will be the true messages of Jesus and Buddha and so many others before.”

“No one belief is right or wrong, they all hold seeds of truth… and they all tell us to treat each other as we would wish to be treated. This is my message, the thing I fight for. I am no great one, any more than you or anyone else is a great one. We are all simply beings who can choose to make our time on this earth better or worse. Can choose to make others time on this earth better or worse.”

Malala considered the words of the older woman for a moment before she felt ready to reply. “I want to fight by your side. I too believe as you. I have risked my life, given up everything to find a way to follow my conscience, do the things my soul demands of me. I do not wish to kill but if Allah wills it and I cannot find another way I will do so.”

Laila held her in her arms for a long time and let her cry herself back to sleep after swallowing a full glass of oral rehydrate solution disguised with fruity flavor before she picked up the girl’s slight form and carried her to the spare bunk in her own quarters. She gently undressed her and bathed her wounds as carefully as possible, resolving to have the doctor take a closer look at her feet which were in very bad shape.

With that taken care of she fell into her own bunk and a fitful slumber, as close to real sleep as she had gotten for many years now. Laila had to check her own reaction when she heard Malala stir and groan as she tried to stretch, glad that her knife was still hidden under the covers.

The girl was sharp eyed though and didn’t miss a trick. She saw Laila easing her knife back into its sheath and apologized for waking her before jokingly thanking the red-faced woman for not killing her.

Laila tried to apologize and it was waved off. “You sleep with no guard?”

“Never trust.”

“You trusted me?”

“I know who you are. You are like me, a girl born with boy parts. I know at least a part of the hell you lived. And…” Laila could not keep a tear from escaping her eye, “I need a little sister in the same way that you need a big sister. I need someone who always has my back no matter what, someone who is the other half of my soul, the conscience I no longer have. Someone I would willingly give my life for, without a second thought.”

“I am not a lesbian.” Her expression was determined and Laila saw so much of herself reflected in the young woman that it brought a genuine laugh bubbling out of her and somehow began to heal a part of her she had never realized was broken.

“Neither am I, dear girl. Not even vaguely bisexual. Even if I were there is no time for that. Not for me, and now, not for you. Perhaps Allah will gift us with love and happiness someday, perhaps even in this world.”

“How can you still believe?”

“How can I do anything else? If it were not Allah it would be Yahweh or Buddha or Kali or Zoroaster or maybe even Pele…” Laila held the girl’s eyes with her own until she saw her begin to understand.

“You must be of service, no matter what name that takes?” The younger woman saw the glint in Laila’s eye, the recognition of her understanding. “I am the same.”

She said it with a sense of wonder, the realization of her inner drives and feelings brought to words for the first time. Without a word she produced a small blade and carefully slashed her palm, enough to bleed but not to damage. She wordlessly proffered her hand, its scarlet burden slowly streaking desert roughened skin.

“My people have a custom, of sharing blood to bind our souls together as warriors. I freely offer my blood and my bond to you as my sister.”

Laila produced her own blade, a rather impressive but totally unadorned Nepalese Kukri knife with a wicked edge on the inner side and tip of the bulbous downward curving blade. She followed suit and then reached out, clasping their hands together so that the blood mingled and dripped onto the pristine decksole.

“My people have this custom as well. Now and forever we are sisters, bound to each other as warriors in blood. Together we will battle the darkness that wishes to cover the world. Until the day I no longer draw breath and even beyond I will fight by your side.”

Both women were openly sobbing now, the sheer physical force of their oath having pierced them to their souls, cracked shields they had both thought impregnable. Eventually both became quiet, simply sharing the moment before Malala broke the tableaux.

“I do not know how to fight. Can you teach me?”

Laila looked into her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. Sorrow passed over her features, a brief shadow of pain.

“No my sister, I cannot teach you to fight. What I can teach you is to kill, to maim, to make men wish they had never drawn breath. I can teach you to be the incarnation of death and vengeance… but I cannot teach you to fight. I do not know how.”

Laila looked down at the blood slowly clotting on the deck. “Blood and horror are the only gifts I have for the world now. Perhaps one day… but those are thoughts for a different time.”

The two women sat that way, each in her own world of heartbreak and loneliness… knowing that there was one other they each could trust to the depths of their souls. Something both beautiful and terrible was born in that moment, something that would shake the world to its very foundations. There was no foreshadowing of this in either woman’s mind and had there been they would each have dismissed it as fantasy.

Finally Laila moved, picking up and carrying Malala into a passageway and through another hatch into a well-stocked and very modern sickbay. The attendant on duty took one look at Malala and instantly had her lie down on a comfortable examination couch. He took a moment to call the ship’s doctor and proceeded to start an IV for fluids.

The doctor was a very short and broad Sikh with a truly impressive beard and a perfect Oxford accent.

He examined Malala with brusque efficiency, making sucking noises through his teeth as he saw her feet. He quickly compounded an ointment and smeared them with it before wrapping them in layers of bandaging. After making sure that she understood she was not to walk until he allowed it he continued with his examination.

He made no comment other than a fractional rise of an eyebrow almost as extravagant as his beard when he examined her groin area. Once he had her covered again and sat up he asked her questions about what medications she had taken, how long since she had them, any illnesses she had as a child. It was a very thorough medical examination and at the end he offered her some options.

She chose to have the implants he offered, ones that would be good for 10 years and ensure that her hormonal balance remained that of a healthy young woman. She winced as he placed them under her skin but the smile on her face when he was done could have lit the world with its bright joy.

“Thank you so much Doctor…?”

“I am called Hitpal Singh. It is a difficult name to live up to but I do my best. You both have heavy names to bear also… she who fought for freedom amidst slavery and she who defended the Prophet Himself with her own body.”

He sighed and looked down at his own squat frame. “My people are warriors of great renown but my battlefield is the illness and injury that destroys just as surely as a weapon. The more physical aspects of fighting I must leave to those such as yourselves.”

“We each have our own way of trying to make the world a better place doctor. I envy you your ability to save lives when it seems that all I ever do is end them.” Laila let out a gusty sigh. “Sometimes I just want to lie down, to give up and let the world around me spin into death and madness without my contributions to the suffering.”

Silence hung between the three of them for what seemed an eternity.

“Do you kill the innocent?”

It took a moment for Laila’s mind to process his perfect English diction into something she could comprehend and even then she could not grasp what he meant. She had to think about it, really examine her own memories and she sat in silence again as she saw in her mind every single death she had caused.

She did not realize tears were streaming down her cheeks until her attempt at speech broke into sobbing. This time it was Malala who held her until she cried herself out and could manage to reply. In her voice was all the heartbreak in the world.

“I have, yes. I thought it was only the men, gathered to plot war against me… I did not know that there were women and children there… I used a gasoline bomb because it was all I had and when I saw children screaming and running, engulfed in fire… I shot them. The women, the children, I shot them so they would not suffer…” She was gasping with great shuddering sobs again and she took a few minutes to get her breathing under control.

When she spoke again her voice was thick with hatred. “The men I left to burn. It was better than they deserved.”

She looked up at the other two expecting to see shock or disapproval and saw only understanding.

Just at the edge of her perception she heard a very faint whisper and the barest waft of a moustache. “Eggs and omelets, my dear…”

She almost laughed at the incongruity.

“How are you with the Sea Brothers Hitpal? Have the ancient divisions disappeared so completely?”

“Disappeared? I do not think that is possible, not in this lifetime. Someone very wise once made a half true statement and it is as true now as it was then.”

Malala broke in quietly, almost to herself. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“Unless they are simply another enemy.” Laila finished her version of the saying. She fell silent for another long moment and the only sound in the sickbay was that of machinery and the thrum of powerful engines.

“I am sick to death of killing. If Allah or some other merciful god took this burden from me I would happily give my life. The gods will not let me die until my work is done, it seems. Maybe one day I will simply drown in the blood of those I have killed and it will be an end to the demon I have become.”

Hitpal gently pulled her chin up with is forefinger, forcing her eyes to meet his. “You are no demon, Lady Death. You are an angel sent by the gods to take their vengeance upon those who would rule with hatred and torture. You are justice in all her terrible glory. Any who meet you know this and those who have reason fear and hate you for it.”

She tried to pull her gaze away and he held her eyes with sheer force of will.

“You are no demon. You are a Goddess of old, made flesh. You are an incarnation of Kali. You are who you need to be, here and now.”

She found herself unable to reply, unable to accept the truth she knew lay in his words and shone in his eyes. He drew her into a gentle embrace, offering the simple comfort of human touch to a woman who needed comfort more than anyone he had ever encountered. Malala held onto both of them and they stayed that way for a very long time.

GC, Bk 1 part 5

Maria woke and stretched as she looked through the canopy to see an endless sea of green beneath. The rest of her family awoke slowly, sleepy mutterings from the younger children and an instant question from Alejandra.

“Where are we?”

Quinn chuckled. “We’re near a place in Brazil called Madre de Dios, a bit south and west of Rio Branco so basically its in the middle of nowhere which is exactly where we need to be. We’ll be landing shortly so you’ll want to make sure everyone’s harness is tight.”

The older girl did as she was told, making sure her siblings were properly secured as they all tried to look outside the aircraft. Once she reported all secure including herself she noticed the carpet of green had grown much closer and resolved into individual trees. The craft made some whining and bumping noises as slats and flaps deployed and their speed slowed to the point that the aircraft almost seemed to be drifting through the sky.

That feeling of serenity didn’t last very long as it became apparent they were sinking rapidly and treetops began to go by directly outside the windows then towered above them with still no end to the jungle in sight. A collective exhalation of relief was heard as the brown of a river suddenly appeared then they drifted down to almost touch the surface before Quinn raised the nose of the craft just the slightest amount and the plane settled gently into the water leaving barely a ripple to mark its appearance.

Azipods deployed and she steered them toward the bank, changing her angle just so at the right moment to reveal a canal shrouded in greenery. They followed it for 50 meters or so until a large set of doors closed behind them. Quinn exchanged what sounded like meaningless radio chatter but was almost certainly verification codes before a door in front of them opened and they proceeded through yet another waterlock arrangement. The final set of doors opened into a gigantic hangar with scores of massive cargo planes on concrete and several other floatplanes and boats of various types moored in the water section.

Quinn steered over to a section occupied by various smaller craft and added speed as she headed directly toward the line between water and concrete. At what seemed like the last moment another series of bumps were felt and it became apparent they’d been heading for a ramp. As the newly extended wheels gained traction the azipods retracted and soon they’d taxied over to a parking area where several figures in jumpsuits were waiting. They moved in, chocked the wheels and one moved a set of stairs up to the hatch, carefully dogging the wheels to keep it from rolling. Elena made her way aft to open the hatch and helped everyone out as Quinn finished her shutdown procedures.

“Welcome to Madre de Dios. As soon as your pilot is ready we will escort you to your quarters to freshen up. Meals are available if you wish and you can rest before the next leg of your journey.” She held a hand up to forestall questions. “That is all I can tell you at this point. This is a highly secure facility and you will be accompanied at all times when outside your quarters. I know you have many questions and they will be answered but not here and not now.”

Alejandra opened her mouth to protest before visibly deflating. It was another 5 minutes before Quinn exited the plane and strode along with the rest following like so many ducklings behind their mother. They walked a very long way toward a wall in the distance which only gradually revealed a door as they neared.

Once they arrived Quinn put both eyes to scanners and inserted her hands into an additional set of scanners, one of which took a tiny DNA sample. When the indicators flashed orange she entered an extremely long sequence of Unicode characters on the keyboard anchored beside the scanners and waited another moment. A gasp arose from the newcomers as the door revealed itself to be a massive vault door more than 4 feet thick but moving quickly and almost silently aside The procedure was repeated at 2 more doors before they stepped out into another huge space.

A cart was waiting and they all boarded, little Sofia squealing in delight as they took off at what seemed like a fairly high speed, crossing another endless expanse filled with aircraft and other less identifiable things. Just as it seemed they would run into a rapidly approaching wall a section raised itself out of the way and they were plunging down a brightly lit tunnel, the walls blurring by making their speed seem that much greater.

After what seemed like at least a kilometer or 3 they exited the tunnel into another area and slowed down a great deal. Here there were people, some of them seeming to take time to enjoy themselves in the lovely green space that occupied this tremendous cavern. They didn’t tarry, taking one of the cart-paths that led down another level into a much more utilitarian area with exposed ductwork and wiring runs. They pulled up in front of an ordinary looking door and debarked, discovering nicely appointed rooms that looked like a high class hotel suite.

The children were enthusiastic and went to explore while the adults took a moment to ensure their status. “You said we will be accompanied. Are we prisoners?”

Maria’s look was determined, defiant even but her expression faltered as the woman who’d greeted them earlier burst into laughter.

“Honored guests would be more appropriate…” she managed to get out before giggling again. “I forget my manners. I am Pilar and these numbskulls are Dwight and Pablo. One of us will always be available to help guide you, to ensure no harm comes to you. This is an active military installation and is by its nature dangerous, especially to civilians and children.”

Maria looked mollified at this explanation. “You said the next leg of our journey? Are we not to stay here then?”

“Only for a little while I’m afraid and before you ask we cannot tell you where your next destination will be.” Pilar’s expression had sobered by then.

“I can accept that. So far you have helped us to escape from the Americans and we have no option but to trust you further.” Tomas seemed resigned.

“Trust me on this if nothing else Tomas…” Quinn’s tone was earnest. “The next place is better, and there is a way for us to fight…”

Tomas accepted her words with a nod, then turned to his family and began getting everyone sorted, or rather getting in Maria’s way while she did the actual work.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Colonel, your presence is requested in Command. Elena, you will be needed as well. Please follow me.” Dwight led the way back outside and once they were ensconced in the cart he took off at a much higher rate than before.

They soon arrived at a set of heavy blast doors and entered another 3 door airlock affair, the inner door swinging open to allow admittance into a large and dimly lit space filled with workstations, all occupied and generating a light susurration of noise as hundreds of conversations took place. They crossed the space, apparently entirely unnoticed by those working and were ushered into a conference room with their escort remaining outside.

Quinn’s eyes swept the room and she snapped to attention, directing a crisp salute at the end of the table. “Colonel Quin reporting for duty sir. My extraction mission was successful.”

“Stop saluting at me Quinn, it makes me feel like an old man.” The grin on his dark face revealed perfect white teeth and his mirth. “I have some good news for you too. Lynne and Thomas made it out and are on the way here as we speak.”

The smiles on Quinn and Elena’s faces were radiant but his next words damped their spirits. “You will not, I’m afraid, be here to greet them. This base is being evacuated as we are fairly certain it will be compromised within the next day or two at most. It is time to implement the plans so long in the making and I need both of you on site to make it work. I truly apologize for not giving you time to reunite but the situation has gotten far worse than we imagined, and far more rapidly.”

“What do you mean? How much worse could it be?” Quinn’s tone was almost emotionless.

“You saw what happened with the civilian aircraft… what they did in the Bahamas… “ at a nod he continued “They’ve taken the whole of the Caribbean, made their way into Venezuela… Mexico City is a pile of rubble… They just bomb and kill and don’t stop. It is like the very legions of hell have been set upon the earth.”

“So they truly have gone insane…”

“I don’t think it was a very long trip old friend. Still, we started planning for this years ago and now we have to evacuate everyone we can. You know what they have become and for now the best we can do is save lives… fall back as we planned.” His expression made it clear he was far from happy with his own words.

“How many so far?” at his quizzical expression Elena clarified. “How many have they killed?”

“We have no idea yet. Worst case estimates are over 50 million and climbing. There’s just… nothing left, no one on the ground who has been able to report. They’ve been using thermobaric bombs on cities… It could be even worse… we just don’t have a way to know.”

They sat together in silence for a moment. “The family we rescued?” Elena’s question fell into the quiet.

“They go with you. Your craft has the range to make it with a refueling stop at Ushuaia on Tierra del Fuego. We’ll be staging the large transports through there as well so there will be heavy fighter cover for the entire route. We’re going to be running the most intensive airlift the world has ever seen for as long as we possibly can because there is simply no other choice. Flee or die.”

“How many do you think can make it?” Elena was stone-faced.

“We’ve already managed to airlift over a million and a half in the past 15 hours and more capacity is coming online as we speak. We may be able to get as many as 200 million out if we can manage to hold off for 2 weeks.”

“That’s… So many and yet so few…” Elena muttered, half to herself.

“I don’t think we’ll get 2 weeks the way this thing is going.” Quinn’s tone was flat. “Not flying time anyway… What about those who can’t be evacced in time?”

“We make them pay in blood for every centimeter of ground. Americans are very good at big showy wars, at killing people in large numbers. Their history has proven they have no stomach for a guerrilla war, especially not the way we intend to fight it. We will bleed them until they have no more stomach for war and then we take our countries back.”

“I can’t accept that Felipe. We have to at least slow them down, get more people to safety. Are the new fabs online yet?”

“Fab 1 is online, 2 through 8 over the next 2 days. Why?”

Quinn smiled ever so slightly. “Because I think we can surprise them enough to buy us some time. I’ll have some designs ready to hit the printers as soon as we land. I’ll leave my initial designs with your people here to see what they can do until we get the first shipment back to you.”

“Our hopes will go with you General.” Felipe’s eyes twinkled as he said it and it took Quinn’s mind a moment to catch up.

“I don’t deserve a promotion for running away sir!” Quinn almost shouted.

“No, you deserve it because we need you. We need the groups who will rally behind you simply because of who you are. You, my dear, are our Churchill, our Washington, our Bolivar. People know who you are and they respect you, more than they do me or any of the presidents of countries that no longer exist. Your name is the one on their lips when they cry for vengeance. Understood?” The older man’s face was almost florid with his emotion and he seemed drained when he finished and acknowledged Quinn’s nod.

“Now go, please. We need you down there more than we do here. If we do not meet again it has been my pleasure and honor to serve with you.” He rose and extended a hand.

Quinn took the hand automatically almost numbly and uttered the words they both knew would be their final ones in person. “The honor has been mine sir.” There was a brief moment of eye contact and the timeless instant ended. Quinn spun on her heel and left, Elena trailing behind

Once they were back onto the waiting cart she leaned over and spoke quietly into Elena’s ear. “He intends to stay and fight… I know someone has to but… so many friends and now I’ve just said goodbye to another…” A solitary tear escaped from her left eye and she quickly dashed it away.

Elena could do nothing but hug her friend and provide what comfort that contact could give.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

2 hours later they were back in the air heading south toward their next stop at the maximum speed Quinn could nurse from the airframe. Before even reaching altitude she’d immersed herself in the specs for her latest designs and was uncommunicative. The children were playing games on their own tablets while Maria and Tomas huddled together, speaking in quiet tones. When they arrived at Ushuaia they all took a break to get something to eat and stretch their legs as the next leg of their flight would be quite long indeed.

Once back in flight Quinn buried herself in design work again and seemed satisfied when the landing challenge suddenly came over the radio. The correct response was provided, and directions followed, directions which seemed to have them landing on the endless expanse of Antarctic snowpack. Suddenly it seemed as though the ground was approaching much too quickly but before anyone had time to flinch they had flown beneath the level of the surrounding ice and were now in a gigantic tunnel which didn’t appear to phase Quinn at all. Another 5 minutes of steadily descending flight led to a smooth touchdown and rollout in a hangar area that made the one at Madre De Dios seem tiny by comparison.

A similar routine followed with ground crew while the rest disembarked and waited for Quinn. This time they got onto a cart immediately and were taken over to what looked like a windowed room aside from the main cavern. It was comfortably appointed and they all made use of the restroom facilities while waiting with their minder. To the surprise of all but Quinn the section of blank wall opposite the windows suddenly slid upward and away to reveal a transit pod. The seats looked comfortable and ergonomic and they all settled in as the door of the pod slid closed and the wall closed as well.

After ensuring everyone was properly secured the pod began to move, gathering speed quickly and quietly with no sense of motion other than the periodic strobe of lights flashing by. The journey continued for almost half an hour before the pod slid into a station very like the one they’d left with the exception of the view.

Before them spread a giant cavern lit as brightly as day, towering far above and spreading out for what seemed like kilometers. It was a riot of greenery everywhere, buildings 20 stories or more high that looked like giant hanging gardens and forested parklands.

“Welcome to Shangri-La” The voice of their guide interrupted their reverie. “Quite impressive, isn’t it?”

“Impressive doesn’t begin… how far underground are we?” Elena asked.

“There are approximately 3 kilometers of rock and another 2 of ice overhead. This place is safe from everything they can throw at us. Even the largest nuke will do little more than melt some ice and cause some tremors. Shangri-La will support 20 million residents without stress on the environmental systems or overcrowding and it is only one of 12 completed habitats. There are another 12 under construction as quickly as we can get it done. It is not just America that has gone insane…”

He grimaced. “Things have gotten much worse while you were in transit. Madre de Dios was destroyed… they nuked it. We don’t know if anyone got out or…”

Quinn and Elena both took this news with sinking hearts. As far as they knew their mates had been set to transit through the now destroyed base and they could only assume they had been killed as well. Quinn was the first to speak.

“How does this effect the evacuation plans?”

“Badly. We’re basically hijacking anything that will fly to get people out but with that airlift capacity gone… maybe half as many?”

“I need access to comms immediately.” It was Elena this time. “I have an idea where we can find some help.”

To his credit the young man flagged down a passing cart, debarked its passengers and promptly whisked them away at the highest speed the cart could manage. Within 10 minutes they were in a large room bedecked with all the paraphernalia of a command center.

Elena was given everything she asked for and spent an hour and a half in conversations that sometimes sounded friendly and other times sounded like there were serious threats being made but when she finally turned away from her adopted workstation she had a smile on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we now have significant additional airlift capacity. Smaller regional craft will transport anyone they can down to Ushuaia and we have large cargo jets ready to fly them the rest of the way. It won’t be the most comfortable flight in the world but it will help us save lives and right now that’s the only thing that matters.” Despite her smile Elena looked drawn, exhausted.

“There’s sealift capacity coming online as well, for those that can’t fly out. Same thing, cargo ships… but discomfort is better than death. If it works out we can manage 300 million people before our capacity to exfiltrate large numbers of people disappears.”

The small crowd who’d been watching and listening cheered tiredly. “I’m not even going to ask how you managed that…” Quinn muttered.

“Just a matter of knowing the right people… and their secrets…” Elena smirked in response. Quinn didn’t reply. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t circle back to their shared fear that they had last seen their loved ones over 6 months before and now never would again.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“How did this all come to be?” Maria was clearly baffled. “I have never heard even a whisper of such a thing!”

“Mining, originally. No country laid claim to the land so as long as there was no activity to speak of on the surface it went unnoticed. Antarctica is so rich in everything, metals, fissile materials, fossil fuels… everything needed to support a modern technological society. Over the years they built larger and larger habitats because everything needed to be hidden. There was talk of declaring themselves a corporate nation but then the wars began and people started coming here for safety…”

“Surely the corporations weren’t happy about that?”

“The bosses may not have been but the people had been here for years, over a decade in a few cases and they were tired of the corporate rule. They revolted, took over, let the first groups in. There are over 30 million people living under the continent already, almost all of them refugees of one kind or another. Until now only those who bring people in can communicate with the outside world once they arrive and none of them know where they are going until they arrive. It was the only way to keep something this massive hidden.”

“It seems impossible…” Elena was still half disbelieving.

“It was necessary. Even before America attacked there were hundreds of millions of people with no country, nowhere to go, no hope… There had to be a place for them and here it is. A place where people can be safe, that cannot be destroyed from above. It is not without strife, there are people of every race and belief… But it is hope.”

“Hope with some very sharp teeth.” Quinn interjected. “We aren’t ready to take the war to them, not yet. Our first task is to save as many as we can. Once we have done that… Then we put an end to this, all of it. The brutal regimes, the water wars, the religious wars… all of it ends.”

“What she means to say is…”

“Quinn cut the shorter man off. “What I mean to say is exactly what I said Mahmoud.”

Mahmoud looked like he wanted to say something more and thought better of it.

“Now we need to get you somewhere to live. Shangri-La is the nicest for now because it was the one the bosses built for themselves but the others are coming along nicely. Mahmoud will show you the available family quarters.”

Elena and Quinn watched as the group was led away.

“So how do I sign up?” Quinn gawked at Elena. “I want to do my bit too, you know?”

“Ellie… you just did more than anyone ever thought possible. Now we just have to figure out what sort of rank you’ll need to hold to keep doing it.”

“Oh…” was all Elena could say in response.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thomas and Mateo chatted while the fuel coursed into the auxiliary tank. “So how long till we get there?”

“Madre de Dios is only a couple of hours from here. We will eat when Lynne and Epolia return and be there before sunset.”

Thomas didn’t respond.

“You will be happy to see your Quinn, yes?”

Thomas merely grunted in response.

“You are worried she will have forgotten you, found another man maybe?” Mateo laughed. “Don’t worry so much my friend. Everyone knows she adores you the same as Lynne and Elena.”

Just as he finished an intolerable light shone behind them and both men waited before turning to look, shading their eyes as a pillar of smoke and flame rose into the sky.

“Nukes!” Thomas was screaming to the sky. “You’re using fucking nukes now! What the hell is wrong with you people!?!?”

Mateo turned his attention back to fueling, carefully finishing and capping the tank. When he turned back to face Thomas there were tears in his eyes.

“That was Madre de Dios. There were 70 thousand people there…”

Thomas simply enfolded the other man in a hug, at a loss for words.

“Mattie?” Epolia was shaking her husband’s shoulder. “We have to get moving. I brought food so we can eat on the way.”

It took a moment for his eyes to focus on her before he stepped back and nodded sharply, turning toward their craft without speaking as he wiped tears from his eyes. Within 5 minutes they were airborne again heading only 10 degrees south of the towering mushroom cloud. Mateo kept them less than 500 meters off ground until they began to encounter mountains and from that point they steadily climbed as the land folded and buckled beneath, the Andes range rising ahead and to the west.

Gradually the land beneath became brown and sere in appearance, the jungle relinquishing its hold on the earth and rock as though the land itself had shaken off the green mantle. The highest peaks slid to their west and they began to descend into a different sort of forest, eventually landing on a river and docking at an abandoned-looking pier which held a pair of fuel tanks. They quickly refueled and were soon climbing back into the sky, mountains again sliding off to their west. This time the land did not wrinkle and fold in the same way as it rose and it became a much more arid environment.

After nearly 3 hours of flight with no sight of water they again descended, this time to land on a very deep blue lake and taxi over to a camping ground with some public services. They took some time to eat and walk around but the silence between them held, the horror they had all just witnessed still too fresh to contemplate. Exhaustion overtook them after eating and they took an unplanned nap, waking nearly 4 hours later.

Mateo did a thorough check of the plane while Epolia disappeared, returning later with several bags of food and drinks. “Seba says the Americans seem to have stopped for a few hours, after they bombed Madre de Dios. No one knows why but everyone is taking advantage and getting out while they can. Half the town has already gone to Ushuaia and as soon as the planes return everyone else will leave too.”

“I’m glad they can get out. We could not take them and I would hate to think of leaving them to such a fate.” Mateo finished a final check and began to load the bags his wife had brought back into their craft. “Still, I am glad they were here at this moment. In such a world it is a comfort to know old friends yet draw breath.”

Thomas and Lynn could only listen, unable to voice their own fears. As they took to the air yet again they flew over a series of lakes and then back into high desert which seemed to last forever. They were flying at a much higher level now and as a consequence moving faster, the need to hug the ground having abated for now. Eventually they flew above and then into clouds, the blank whiteness surrounding them and making them feel as though they were not flying at all but suspended in some timeless purgatory.

When they finally flew back down below the clouds they could see below them a vista of mountains and water and shortly found themselves taxiing toward a smaller pier where their craft was refueled and given a thorough check while they all took a break. Mateo of course repeated his own checks, knowing that if anything should go wrong there would be no help for them. When they took off this time Mateo babied the craft into the air with the minimum of power and climbed slowly to the maximum altitude the plane could achieve. Once he was content that their flight was as efficient as it could possibly be he turned the controls to auto and swiveled his seat around to face their passengers, his wife doing the same.

“Thomas, Lynn. We have not told you our destination until now because we could not.” Mateo began before his wife shushed him with a gesture and took over.

“We are going to Antarctica.” She waited for the expressions of shock on each face before continuing. “It is nothing like you think, nothing I can even describe properly but I can tell you that Elena and Quinn are there and safe. We have one more refueling stop before you have the most amazing and frightening experience of your lives but I assure you, there is no danger with my Mateo at the controls. For the rest… you simply have to wait and see.”

Lynn and Thomas could only look at each other in bewilderment, unsure what could possibly be in such a remote place to inspire such confidence. Still, they had no choice but to wait and meanwhile the foursome played games to amuse themselves. It passed the time until they landed again in a protected lagoon, taxiing into a covered bay with a door that closed behind. Refueling and thorough checks were completed once again and soon they were winging south, high over the icepack.

It was almost a surprise when the landing challenge came and Mateo responded. Clearance was given and they began descent, Mateo using the onboard systems to remain within a few meters of the precise glide path provided. Tom and Lynn watched in growing horror as the ground seemed to rush up to meet them, certain they were going to die right then… until suddenly they were within a gigantic tunnel through the ice, still descending at the same rate. Suddenly the ice turned to rock and still they flew downward until finally exiting into a truly enormous area, Mateo winging to port and lining up with a water runway.

When they finally came to a stop, parked in a mooring slip off a water-taxiway the shaken Tom and Lynn took a few moments to gather their wits. The experience had lived up to Epolia’s promise and then some so it took a few moments until they were out and back on dry land again, glad of the fact.

Lynn rounded on Mateo. “You said our wives are here?”

“We will go to them now.” A cart was rolling to a stop beside them and they quickly piled in, the driver pushing the cart as fast as safely possible. When they arrived at the transit station a car was already waiting for them, doors open and they wasted no time in settling themselves into the comfortable surroundings. A part of Lynn’s mind was awed at the technology they were seeing in this place but that was nothing to when they exited the transit stop and got their first view of Shangri-La. Both of them stood and gawked at the city before them, its towers and greenery and bustling hive of humanity.

They were pulled along, still entranced by their surroundings until they entered a much more functional looking area, a command center of some sort. From there they entered a conference room where two others sat intent on a screen.

They stood silently for a moment, aware they had been left alone in the room with the backs of 2 uniforms. 2 uniforms with stars on their shoulders whom they were reluctant to interrupt and who seemed unaware of their presence. Thomas finally broke the silence with a quiet “Generals? We’re sorry to interrupt but”

That was as far as he got before Quinn silenced him with a kiss, having recognized his voice and nearly leapt into his arms. The same was going on with Elena and Lynn and was quite some time before either pair came up for air.

“We were so afraid you were at Madre de Dios and no one could tell us anything…” Elena stroked her wife’s closely shorn head. “I’m so glad you’re alive… I’m sorry about your hair.”

“It will grow back, my love. I cried over it but I could at least donate it to a worthy cause. I was so terrified and we almost died and then we were saved and brought here by the last person I’d ever thought to find common ground with. Now all this, and you a general and a city under Antarctica and… I’m a little overwhelmed.”

“So you realized who Epolia is, I gather?”

“We had a discussion, yes. We’re not about to be enemies if that’s what you’re worried about. I had a bit wrong end of stick there…” She looked onto Elena’s eyes. “I didn’t know about her family or any of the rest of it… I had everything so backward and I misjudged her so completely.”

“So did I, at the beginning. Then I met a few of her people, made friends with them and realized she was not the demon I thought. Not exactly an angel either…”

“I don’t think I believe in either thing, just people…” Lynn noticed a tear making its way down her check with a brief sense of wonder before a torrent of grief and fear came pouring out. When she could finally speak again she realized Elena was hugging her to her breast and stroking her head. Raising her head to look into her wife’s eyes she kissed her, salty with tears. “I love you Laney, so much.

“I love you too Lynette… I’m so glad you’re here and safe and I never want to let you go again.” They kissed again and then hugged some more.

Quinn and Thomas had been having a similar conversation and after a time the two couples separated and all looked at each other, grinning in glee at their reunion.

“When do you two get some downtime?” Thomas inquired.

“Give us 15 minutes to carve out some time.” Quinn keyed a comm unit and a voice answered.

“Yes Maam?”

“Corporal, please have the Sergeant escort some VIPs to our quarters and provide them with whatever they wish.”

“She’s on her way maam.”

“Thank you corporal.” She closed the link. “I know we all want some serious private time together but I expect we all need to eat and there’s a lot more to tell you over dinner. Order whatever you like, you’ll find the diet here is quite varied. Elena and I will be there as quickly as possible.”

The two couples kissed again before Tom and Lynn exited the room, finding a familiar figure standing there in a uniform with Sergeant’s insignia.

The moment of mutual recognition was a thing to behold before the three were wrapped in an excited group hug babbling at each other.

“Lilly honey, we never expected to see you again! We were just glad you got out… I’m so sorry Kelly didn’t make it. He refused to leave his farm….” Lynn tried to find something more to say and failed.

“Its OK Lynn… I knew Daddy wouldn’t leave. We said our goodbyes.” Her eyes were clear, peaceful rather than filled with the grief one might have expected. “He told me to go seek my own path in this world, to survive and fight for what I knew to be right… and here I am. Because you and Tom and so many others risked their own lives I get that chance and I’ll do everything in my power to live up to what he knew I could be.”

“Well I’d say you’ve done pretty damn well for yourself young lady! Sergeant already?” Tom’s voice was slightly teasing.

“More like glorified errand girl but I’m going to OCS next week. Apparently I managed to get myself noticed…” she grimaced.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine honey. You’re one of the brightest people I’ve ever known and if the brass decided you were officer material then roll with it. You don’t have to fly under the radar here… You’re wanted and valued.”

“They keep telling me that but… you know what it was like back there Lynn, what I went through before you got me out of that camp. Its hard to feel like you’re worth much of anything after that…” Her words were cut off by an enveloping hug.

“You come talk to me anytime you get to feeling like that ok? I’m sure you have a therapist but sometimes a friend with a shoulder to cry on does just as much good. Besides, I might need a shoulder myself… That last year was pretty hairy.”

“I will Lynn, I promise... we all owe you so much. Now come on, I’ve got to get you settled in and get things ready for the Generals. They both work way too hard and you two being here is exactly what they need.” A cart rolled up on auto and beeped its ready tone so they all climbed aboard and the cart moved off at a much more sedate speed than the human-piloted cart they’d arrived on.

It gave them time to admire what they began to realize was a truly massive city. As the dome of the giant cavern rose so did the buildings within and there was greenery everywhere the eye could see creating a giant hanging garden. There was even an assemblage of lights mimicking a sun and creating the effect of a cloudless day in some tropical place. The air smelled of fecund growth and the temperature was balmy enough to make light tropical clothing the norm as far as they could see.

“How many…?” Tom breathed almost reverently.

“Shangri-La can hold 20 million but it’s the nicest of the habitats so far. It’s the oldest, the one the executives built for themselves and their families. There are 12 more this size or a little larger ready for habitation and another 12 under construction as quickly as possible. None of them will be like this for quite some time though… right now the priority is on making space and life support for the current evacuation.”

“Industrial activity is separated from living and farming areas for safety reasons and each city is capable of autonomous survival if needed although we are more closely linked than the distances might suggest. The transit system you rode to get here moves at over 1000 kilometers per hour and Is paralleled by larger tunnel systems for freight. To get from Shangri-La all the way over to New Jack City only takes 4 hours nonstop and that’s the longest run.”

“How could this all be done and no one know about it? It seems fantastic at best…” Lynn was just as awed as Tom.

“Money. There were minerals to be extracted and no government to say no as long as they didn’t get caught. Over the years it grew into a truly major concern and eventually the workers revolted over poor treatment, overthrew the corporate heads and formed a nation. So many of them were refugees who had taken jobs they knew nothing about beforehand only to realize they would never go home again, never be able to bring their families to them…”

“Once they got themselves organized and began to form a government they realized it had to be a completely inclusive democracy and that meant they had to take in any refugee they could. There were so many… First almost all of the Yazidis, then the Kurds and then Isrealis when they finally lost and it just went on… people of all religions and none, all sexualities, genders… protection for all, absolute equality for all was written into the basic immutable law that became our constitution. Each citizen has to sign upon immigration or reaching majority so that we are each of us stakeholders in a living thing…”

“It sounds like some sort of paradise…”

“Hardly. You of all people should know that it isn’t that simple, Lynn. Still, people make an effort and there is less friction than you might think. A part of it is because clumping is not allowed. You will not find a sector, or even a hallway within a building that contains only members of a single faith or nationality or gender expression. When you live and work with people, break bread with them… you are less likely to fight with them. You taught me that.”

The cart rolled to a stop in front of one of the large buildings. “Ok, follow me and you’ll both have a chance to get a shower and clean up before they get here. There are fresh clothes ready for you although I expect you’ll need uniforms soon. Anything special either of you want to order for dinner?”

They’d made their way into a lift, up quite some distance and into a corridor that looked more like a narrow lawn. At a negative nod from both she took them to the appropriate doors and set the bioscanners to recognize them, then vanished down the corridor as they entered with a cheery wave and a “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Well that’s a pretty short list” Lynn thought to herself, then blushed when she realized what she’d been thinking about doing with Elena.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After so long traveling the shower felt like heaven and it was all she could do to make herself not linger under the caress of the hot water. She realized with embarrassment that the stubble she’d let grow on her face to aid in their escape was still present and quickly made use of a shaver to remedy that issue. Looking in the mirror she took some time to examine herself. She looked gaunt, half starved. Her breasts were barely discernable and with her shaven head and the hated remnant she’d been unable to get rid of she had a very hard time seeing the girl in the mirror.

To her own eye she thought she looked very like the boy who tried to starve puberty away and cursed the bones that stuck through where curves had dwelt for a time. A wave of grief came with that self-perception but she could not manage to cry. Instead she gathered herself and went out into the room to find a silk cheongsam laid out for her, accompanied by fine lingerie that allowed her to hide what she saw as her defect although she left off the bra she had little left to fill. She put it on, hating that it was loose all over, even where it should have been a little tight.

She sat at the vanity and applied a slight touch of makeup, just a little accent along eyes, cheeks, a light pink lip stain… and finally she could begin to see an older version of the girl she’d fought so hard to be a decade before, even the hair contributing to the illusion. There were lines in her face where there had not been then, worn by the passage of time, by love, grief, stress… the beginnings of little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

‘How’ she wondered to herself ‘can I be so shallow, to feel bereft of my hair and some fat when the world is burning around me?’

“How could you not, my love?” She turned to see Elena in her uniform and her heart leapt.

“I said that aloud, didn’t I?” Lynne blushed.

“I could read your lips in the mirror but I didn’t need to, I know you well enough to know exactly what you were thinking… you know you’re none of the things you keep calling yourself. You stayed so long trying to help others I nearly lost you… and then as a final act of charity, the last thing you could give before you left, you gave your hair and I’m betting it went to a wig for a cancer victim. That is not the act of a shallow or selfish woman.”

“I still can’t help feeling that way…” Lynne looked at the floor to find her chin being pulled around as Elena kissed her deeply.

Elena pulled her from the chair and led her over to a sofa where they sat, hips and knees touching, looking at each other. “I wish more than anything that I could help but we’ve both been through enough therapy to know the only way you will realize your own worth is by seeing it yourself. Now I hate to do this because I want nothing more than time alone with you right now… but our presence has been requested and its fairly important. Lets start by getting you something that flatters a little more than that dress though… I didn’t realize you’d lost so much weight…”

“At the end it was difficult to shop for food and someone always needed it more than I did. I think I’ve lost 15 pounds on this trip... I wasn’t this thin when we left… I still had… something…” she gestured at her chest.

“In other words that excess fat served its evolutionary purpose and kept you alive.” Lynne’s eyes widened but before she could say anything Elena continued. “And once we get some food into you it will return, to serve that and other purposes again. I love you Lynnette. I loved you when we were children discovering ourselves and our sexuality, I loved you when your parents sent you away and mine… didn’t…”

Elena had to stop, not wanting to dredge up the memories of the conversion camp and the hell that followed but realizing it was already too late . “Always you, Lynette. Before I had the nerve to come out to my parents… always you, my brave girl who took the risks I couldn’t because of my own fear, who came back from hell and spat in their eyes that very day.”

“I was a bit of a stupid little shit, wasn’t I?”

“No… you just had more to overcome with your parents and their church and then the Party… you were so much more bottled up that you exploded in this giant glittery explosion of pure girliness and for an hour or two you got to be yourself, unrestrained…”

“And then my parents came home and I went to Hell.” Lynne’s voice was filled with self-loathing. “If only I’d been able to just hold it in for 2 more years…”

“I tried to join you.” Elena’s voice was just barely above a whisper.

“You what?”

“That’s why I came out to my parents… I hoped they would send me to the same place so I could be with you, so we could help each other… I even thought that was what was happening until I realized the plane was bound for Japan and then they paid for the best procedures available, even managed to change the records so that I could be their adopted daughter when we came back.”

“I never realized… I just knew when I got back from that place there was no one who would talk to me, even so much as look at me. When I got off the bus there was no one there… I had to walk all the way home and then they wouldn’t let me in. I slept rough for a while and finally managed to find some work with this construction guy… he had no clue how to both run a business and get the job done and I was able to get him sorted out and on an even keel.” Lynne sighed.

“I felt so bad for him… his wife and all 4 children had been killed in a terrible car accident and I think he saw me as a surrogate child somehow. When he could he hired me and I managed to find a little place, get a little medical work done and hormone therapy started. I told that whole story to everyone because I wanted to feel better about myself… feel like I was the one who rejected them…”

“The truth only makes me see you as stronger. All I knew was the story people told and that when I came back, there you were, beautiful and shining and my heroine.” Elena kissed Lynne again, then pulled her to her feet. “Now, strip and lets get you measured.”

Lynne did as instructed, turning as the sensors swept up and down her body, creating a perfect 3d mapping. She winced at her angular form even on the screen but was amazed when the same dress she’d been wearing appeared on her projection, this time properly fitted. She selected accept before she could change her mind and a bare few minutes later a chime sounded as a small door opened, revealing a package.

When opened it was exactly as the screen had shown and when she saw herself in the mirror she realized just how much her waist had thinned. It was cut just right to give the illusion of more breast than was actually there which she appreciated and she felt much better about her appearance when arms encircled her from behind and a lip grazed that sensitive spot just beneath her ear. Before she could turn and initiate a deeper kiss she was being led through the door, out into the verdant corridor.

As they stepped off the lift they saw an eager Lilly along with a rather flushed-looking Tom and Quinn already seated in a cart. Lynne and Elena joined them and the cart again took off, this time under human control. Lilly seemed to be entirely unaware of the concept of brakes although she had a firm grasp on the use of accelerator and horn. After a moment or two it became evident this wasn’t recklessness, this was the South Carolina backwoods rat racer they’d rescued simply enjoying herself behind the wheel. She finally did prove that she actually knew the location of the brakes by bringing the cart to an almost screeching halt, growling a little in frustration at the braking systems that wouldn’t allow her to slide to a stop.

The two couples had barely disembarked when she tore off again, doing her absolute best to drift around a corner. “Well that girl hasn’t changed a bit, huh?”

“Well you know what they say… you can take the girl out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the girl!” Lynne gave a small snort of laughter.

They were ushered by a sharply uniformed and apparently freshly minted 2nd lieutenant into a small waiting area before a large set of doors were flung open to reveal a group of people, some in uniform, some not but all dressed at least somewhat formally. Tom and Lynne looked at each other in bewilderment until they began to notice familiar faces, hear voices they recalled and the reality of who waited for them came crashing home with full force.

The large conference room held well over a hundred people, each one of whom had been helped to escape by Tom and Lynne as the situation steadily worsened. It took each of them a moment to realize the roaring in their ear was applause, all of those gathered clapping wildly and more than a few whoops of pure joy floating atop the aural maelstrom. A podium was set up at the far end of the room and a decidedly non-military person who appeared to be wearing both denim overalls and a Carmen Miranda headdress tapped the sound pickup with a sharply manicured nail, generating a rather loud tapping noise throughout the room.

It took another moment for the sound levels to drop and gradually the room mostly quieted with the occasional yell of “We love you guys!” or similar sentiment. “Well…” a voice as androgynous as its owner drawled out. “its pretty clear my whole ‘Introduce the celebrities’ bit got stepped on…”

The crowd laughed.

“Still… I want to be able to say the same thing each of us do and I’ve got the mic.” More laughter from the crowd. “Tom and Lynne, everyone in this room owes you our lives, literally. There are lots of others but those of us who could manage to make it on such short notice had to be here. Quinn, Elena, we owe you just as much and I want to be able to say to my personal heroes…” they gestured to encompass the room “our personal heroes… ‘Thank you. We. Will. Pay. It. Forward!’ ”

If they’d thought the applause was noisy before it was overwhelming now and as it faded music took its place, bluegrass banjo from the figure at the podium, joined by another as its player strode onto the stage to a swell of applause and the answering refrain to “Dueling Banjos” hushed it just as quickly. By the time the 2 finished their tune and embraced a small band had assembled with a surprising array of instruments and they proceeded to play their way through several different genres of music while everyone found tables and proceeded to make their food choices, circulating within the room and imbibing a variety of drinks as many of them had not met before while others had not seen each other for years in some cases.

Many old friendships were renewed, new ones formed and more than a few romances also began that night as the partying stretched on long after the food service had been cleared away and the music shifted to recorded tracks. Lilly had reappeared and when the two couples were exhausted and ready to depart she summoned their cart and accompanied them although she had more sense than to attempt manual control as she held on to the impressively large man at her side.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Elena and Quinn left their exhausted and inebriated mates to sleep off the effects of the revelry and met in the corridor a few minutes later, both freshly showered, in clean uniforms and sober courtesy of chemical assistance.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to just lie there with her…” Elena finally spoke in the lift.

“Oh I think I can imagine it pretty well. Still… we both have so much to do and if we hadn’t deliberately set it up this way I’d feel guilty about taking the few hours we did. I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve inspected and tested the first print run and we’ll have cargo outbound as quickly as we can package it up. 3 hours maybe?”

“Anything you can send right now, we can carry. We’ve had planes deadheading all the way back up to Ushuaia except for medical aid and I would dearly love to load them as heavily as we can manage and still get them there. You’re going to need some personnel lift too, right?”

“I’m minimizing that as much as possible. Anyone we send out is someone we can’t bring back, be it them or someone else. Why didn’t we start building weapons systems ahead of time? Its just so frustrating…” Quinn’s fists were clenched at her sides as the lift drew to a stop, the doors opening silently.

“No one wanted to imagine it… it didn’t seem possible…” They each settled into a cart which awaited. “I wonder if the Poles and the French felt this way in World War Two? Must we always refuse to confront the monster until after it has begun to eat us?”

Quinn had no reply as her cart smoothly rolled away.