Nyton
Inactive Member
A week after the DIoN government dropped the bombshell that would spark intergalactic outrage and a shift in power.....
The television had been reporting the protests and riots non-stop for days. It was all Celine could do to try and keep the chaos from infecting her home. School attendance was unsteady as parents as well as children were either adding to the voices of condemnation or hiding from the violence. Her son Nellis was a ball of energy since he was forced to be cooped up instead of play with his friends. Anthony continued to work but his hours were further extended due to a massive surge in business and other duties. Rioting in certain areas had come too close to his properties and it was all he could do to maintain security and avoid any losses.
It was not so much the middle child and husband Celine was concerned about. It was her father of late who had made her worry. The old man had begun to brood more often as of late. It was not the fiery explosion of outrage that she expected but this quiet withdrawal that caused her to feel frightened for him.
The days as of late had become a bit routine. Celine woke up to change and feed her infant daughter Nadine. Nellis would keep entertained with some game or toy after being fed which gave her time to do other tasks. She would check her datanet contacts to see the latest news and hear from friends. Ever since the news hit the datanet there was an increased number of hackers who tried to infiltrate the PANTHEON network. Their intent was to either commit vandalism or actual damage. Such attempts had usually been futile but the anger induced rage had some hackers beating their fists on the firewalls in fury. Celine did not want to think about what the Outlands might be doing at the moment.
It was then that she would check on her father who had taken to sitting in his room for most of the day. He would watch the television as more news reports and documentaries about the plague would play. Sometimes Celine would catch him looking at an object that she guessed was a souvenir of some sort. "Papa, are you okay? Why don't you come out and play with Nellis? He gets so bored being home all the time." she would ask. After a moment of thick silence Thomas would finally reply. "Are the schools still cancelled? No wonder he's so bored."
Any further pleas would simply elicit more roundabout conversations that led Celine no where. Finally she would give up and leave Thomas in the dark room. This continued for several days until she heard a crashing sound from that room. Concerned, she rushed to see what was the matter only to find Thomas at the door’s entrance holding a large box. The box was large, about three feet tall, two wide, and four long. “Papa, are you-?”
“I‘m going out. Don‘t wait up.” Thomas said in a stern voice. He was dressed in his old pair of woodland camouflage pants, heavy boots, black tank top, and a long coat. “Wh-wha?” came Celine’s confused reply. Without another word Thomas began to walk out of the apartment leaving his stunned daughter dumbstruck.
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Thomas walked down the streets of Roger Wilco city with more purpose than he had felt in some time. With his enhanced senses he could hear just how far the riots and other actions occurred. Nothing seemed to pass by without him knowing. The buildings without any kind of shielding were laid bare to him through his imaging sensors. He did not just see and hear all around him, he could feel everything. It was how he had lived for most of his life now. The memories of how he used to live before this way were growing further and further apart from him.
The cityscape grew dirtier the closer he got to the slums. Thomas supposed that some people would feel nervous as the criminal element became more prominent here. But he had stopped feeling such fears long ago. Every person around him was like an open book to him. He could detect who was armed and who wasn’t. Biosensors detected who was cybernetic or who was on some sort of chemical dependency. Thomas could deduce the rest based on sensor feeds.
After some time Thomas stopped at a deserted lot which was supposed to be an old park. Now the trees were long dead but the ground was littered with garbage and other waste. Shifting aside some debris he slowly dug a hole with his hands in the stale dirt. Once the hole was deep enough he threw the box in. The lid popped open to reveal it’s contents. There were bones inside and filled the box nearly to the brim. Thomas stooped down to sift through the bones a bit to pull out what appeared to be small cards. They were in fact identification cards of the owners of the bones. Some of the cards had dark musty stains. Picking one up Thomas looked over at the former owner’s face. A slight wave of sadness washed over Thomas as he looked at the Elysian face staring back at him. All of the bones had come from Elysians that he had blamed for the deaths of his family. Wrongly blamed. Their screams as he flayed them alive were still preserved in his memory. Tossing the card back inside Thomas stood up. “I’m sorry.” Pushing the dirt and debris over the hole as fast as he could, Thomas returned it to it’s former state and hoped it would remain undisturbed. A final resting place for the remains of all the victims of his rage.
With that unsavory task done Thomas then headed for where he could find some sort of relief from everything. Stored map data and links to datanet feeds helped direct him to his destination but for the most part he knew the way by heart. Eventually he turned into an alley and began to walk down some steps next to an old building. The steps led to a door with a sign overhead that read plainly in faded paint: Rusty Bones.
Thomas pulled on the door handle and felt the sensation of machinery interrogation. The old looking handle was disguised to detect the cyber-signature of full conversion cyborgs by talking to their operating system. It would release the lock upon confirmation. The door immediately opened and gave Thomas access to a wide hallway which was taller than even himself. He walked down the hall until he reached another door that opened up into a large rectangular room. There were tables of various heights set up around a large conspicuous bar that occupied one side of the room. Bottles and glass lined the walls and the bartender was more serving facility than human. There were several sets of arms moving around and more than one head suspended by a mechanical swivel taking orders. The entire room was populated only by full conversion cyborgs. They varied in size and type. Some did not even have human form anymore.
“’Eeey, Big Tom. ‘Ow’ve ya been mate?” greeted the bartender, another pair of arms waving at him from beneath the bar. Thomas waved a bit and walked up to the bar. More than a few of the other occupants turned and either nodded or raised a glass to Thomas. “’Aven’t seen you in a while. Retired life treatin’ you good?”
“Same old, same old. The son in law is still making good business. My little girl gave birth to a little girl.” Thomas said as he sat down on the reinforced bar stool. Without even asking there was already a shot glass placed in front of him being filled. Thomas took the glass and raised it to his ‘mouth.‘ The mouth opened a slight intake port from which the liquid could pour down into. He finished the glass and placed it down on the bar. It was already being refilled when the bartender began to talk to him. “So, bit of a mess we got out there, eh?”
A snorting electronic chuckle came from Thomas. “Mess is putting it lightly, Phil. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing everyone’s sob story about the plague by now.” he replied before taking a sip this time. “I can handle my problems myself.” Phil just nodded a head on the swivel. His face was flat with two bulbous circular eyes and a mouth piece that lit up when he talked. “ I ben ‘earing lots from everyone that ‘ates the bum, but not one sayin’ anythin’ ‘bout what they gonna do to th’ bastard.”
Thomas just leaned back a little bit and put both hands on the bar counter. “Yes, it would be nice to hear about someone doing something useful. Look at all these riots. Nothing more than pointless wasted effort.” he said before taking a sip from his drink. “I can understand why everyone wants to riot. The government is powerless to do anything. How can anyone live agreeably when we know there won’t be any justice.” he said. After another sip from his drink he then leaned in closer to look the bartender close in the eyes. “Now, if there happened to be some rich private citizen who decided they wanted to ‘hire’ some folks to go on a ‘hunting expedition’ then maybe we could get somewhere.”
Thomas and Phil shared a low knowing laugh together before sighing. While Thomas continued to empty the glass the bartender shook his head slowly. “Sorry mate. ‘Aven’t ‘eard of anything like that coming round.” Thomas set the glass down and leaned forward slightly. “Didn’t think so.”
“Yeh jest hevn’t looked in th’ righ’ places, luv.” said a silky female voice from behind Thomas. There wasn’t anyone there but he knew who the source was. Standing up he pushed the glass away from him and turned away from the bar. Philip just went back to his work, an electronic calculated tab was already sent to Thomas. It was shoved into another memory file to remind him to pay it off later. Right now he had more pressing matters. In a more concealed stall where a passive sensor filter offered more privacy he found the source of the voice.
“Shannon O’Adair, same booth as usual.” he said as he settled into the seat. Sitting across from him was a female cyborg. Her elbow was set on the table with her face resting in her hand. The long flowing purple hair fell off to the sides of her face which was still of a natural human appearance. The skin however looked ashen as though she were dead. Her body was a dull metallic gray color which gave off no reflection. Her entire body was thin and wispy but the hard edges and contours of metal gave a subtle durability to her frame. The hands and forearms were wicked looking gauntlets of spikes and sharp fingers. Her feet had two big toes that pointed at the tip and her knees bore spikes that pointed upward. Everything about her body gave the impression of being a living knife blade.
“Big Tom, yeh ol’ brute. Quit talkin’ te me wi’ tha’ voice. Tha’ voice jus’ ain’ laek you.” Shannon said in her heavy accent. Thomas was well acquainted with it though and humored his old comrade’s request. “Feh, yer as demandin’ as evah, Shannon.” Thomas replied, his voice module changing so that he sounded differently, his own accent now as sharp as Shannon’s. The female cyborg smiled coyly while raising an eyebrow. “When yeh ar’ in my position yeh have more room teh negotiate.”
“An’ just what is it yeh wan’ tah negotiate with th’ likes of me?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as though already bored. “Ah’m retired, remembah?” Shannon shook her head and grinned. Her teeth also consisted of the same gray metal as the rest of her body. Her eyes shimmered different colors, from red to purple to a deep shade resembling the rest of her. “Oh you won’ want teh pass this up. Aftah all you still carreh th’ remeins of yehr gran’children in yeh, don’ yeh?”
A mechanical snort escaped from Thomas. “Ah gehv you my biocode to keep in touch, not scan me innards. Ah can see you still ‘ave yehr uterus tucked awey in there.” he said. Shannon only nodded in affirmative, not that she could have hidden it from him. “Aye, tha I do. Ah still carry the only connection ah have teh my wee ones tha died in th’ plague. All five of me children and me ‘usband in one go. Lahk in th’ old stories.”
“Ol’ Braendon was a good man. ’Orrible loss of a fightah. Especially if ‘e wos willin’ ta put up with yeh.” Thomas said with a sigh. “We lost so many tha’ day. Ah still remembah th’ mission we were on, fightin’ off world with th’ res’ of th’ Irregulars. Only reason we’re still alive now.” Shannon just shook her head. “Ah wish I’d died wit mah family that day. But livin’ is what we chose teh do so ah cahn’t go joinin’ them. Not yet and specially not now. Now tha’ we know who th’ real bastahrds who killed them are.” The spikes on her body twitched slightly and her eyes shone red. Her body trembled but the shakes were so microscopic that they could only be seen via Thomas’s own enhanced vision. “Th’ stories are well known but what do we do about it is th’ question. Now talk afore Ah go an’ ‘ave me another drink at th’ bar yeh pasty wench.”
Immediately Shannon had regained control of herself and drawn up a smile on her lips. “Ah’ve been looking aroun’ an’ after readin’ the clime ah’ think we should gathah up th’ Irregulars again. There’s more then enough of us out there in th’ cities. We ‘aven’t faded away laek some would think. But ah need you Big Tom. Th’ Irregulars need the’ir Angel of Death. Ah been lookin’ intah findin’ us some richman who’se got as much reason teh hate th’ ones who caused th’ plague as we do. Ah’ve got us a few leads but ah need to show‘em we mean business.” she said before reaching out with one of her hands to hold Thomas’s. There was a pleading look on her face this time and her eyes had turned a deep blue.
There was serious conflict in Thomas now. He knew what doing this meant. He would be abandoning his family to pursue a vendetta. Celine would not soon forgive him for this. Regardless of her attitude she was dependant on him for a sense of security. Anthony would help him out somewhat but there were limits to what he could do. Then there was his promise to Nyton to live long enough to see his great grandchildren.
And yet there were the faces, still in his mind. Each of his sons, their wives, and their children. It had taken him a lot of effort to sneak onto the planet, only to manage recovering the remains of two of them: Jaden, just a baby barely started crawling, and Jacob who called him gam’pa in a voice that sometimes haunted his dreams. All of his brave boys, so determined to help the Nepleslian effort to reclaim Yamatai. All of them dead along with their wife’s families. For a second he was almost there again on that Elysian ship that they had captured. The emergency signals from Yamatai had broadcast on every frequency and received by their ship which was the first indication that something was wrong. It was shortly after that when other vessels would begin to coordinate and pass on the news of what happened. Video feeds appeared as fast as they could manage to be pulled up. There was so much disruption that facilities were failing before automatic systems could activate to keep things running. But despite anything they did, all they could do was to watch in horror while their people were dying. Many pounded fists into the walls helplessly when they recognized family members falling over dead. And there was Thomas, all over again as he screamed into the hallway of death that he had created. The dead Elysians could not reply and all around him were the echoes of comrades as their grief overwhelmed them.
Then just like that Thomas was back in the present. The moment had lasted but scant seconds and now he was in the present. He looked over at Shannon. “Ah’ll think about it.” he finally replied. Shannon set down a small chip on the palm of his hand. “When yeh’ve done yeh thinkin’ come ta these coordinates.” she said. Her voice was not one of disappointment or confirmation. It was just one of a simple business matter having come to a conclusion. “See yeh round, Big Tom.” she said and stood up to leave. Thomas didn’t follow up with anything or make any movement. He just sat there and thought.
He thought about it all the way home.
The television had been reporting the protests and riots non-stop for days. It was all Celine could do to try and keep the chaos from infecting her home. School attendance was unsteady as parents as well as children were either adding to the voices of condemnation or hiding from the violence. Her son Nellis was a ball of energy since he was forced to be cooped up instead of play with his friends. Anthony continued to work but his hours were further extended due to a massive surge in business and other duties. Rioting in certain areas had come too close to his properties and it was all he could do to maintain security and avoid any losses.
It was not so much the middle child and husband Celine was concerned about. It was her father of late who had made her worry. The old man had begun to brood more often as of late. It was not the fiery explosion of outrage that she expected but this quiet withdrawal that caused her to feel frightened for him.
The days as of late had become a bit routine. Celine woke up to change and feed her infant daughter Nadine. Nellis would keep entertained with some game or toy after being fed which gave her time to do other tasks. She would check her datanet contacts to see the latest news and hear from friends. Ever since the news hit the datanet there was an increased number of hackers who tried to infiltrate the PANTHEON network. Their intent was to either commit vandalism or actual damage. Such attempts had usually been futile but the anger induced rage had some hackers beating their fists on the firewalls in fury. Celine did not want to think about what the Outlands might be doing at the moment.
It was then that she would check on her father who had taken to sitting in his room for most of the day. He would watch the television as more news reports and documentaries about the plague would play. Sometimes Celine would catch him looking at an object that she guessed was a souvenir of some sort. "Papa, are you okay? Why don't you come out and play with Nellis? He gets so bored being home all the time." she would ask. After a moment of thick silence Thomas would finally reply. "Are the schools still cancelled? No wonder he's so bored."
Any further pleas would simply elicit more roundabout conversations that led Celine no where. Finally she would give up and leave Thomas in the dark room. This continued for several days until she heard a crashing sound from that room. Concerned, she rushed to see what was the matter only to find Thomas at the door’s entrance holding a large box. The box was large, about three feet tall, two wide, and four long. “Papa, are you-?”
“I‘m going out. Don‘t wait up.” Thomas said in a stern voice. He was dressed in his old pair of woodland camouflage pants, heavy boots, black tank top, and a long coat. “Wh-wha?” came Celine’s confused reply. Without another word Thomas began to walk out of the apartment leaving his stunned daughter dumbstruck.
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Thomas walked down the streets of Roger Wilco city with more purpose than he had felt in some time. With his enhanced senses he could hear just how far the riots and other actions occurred. Nothing seemed to pass by without him knowing. The buildings without any kind of shielding were laid bare to him through his imaging sensors. He did not just see and hear all around him, he could feel everything. It was how he had lived for most of his life now. The memories of how he used to live before this way were growing further and further apart from him.
The cityscape grew dirtier the closer he got to the slums. Thomas supposed that some people would feel nervous as the criminal element became more prominent here. But he had stopped feeling such fears long ago. Every person around him was like an open book to him. He could detect who was armed and who wasn’t. Biosensors detected who was cybernetic or who was on some sort of chemical dependency. Thomas could deduce the rest based on sensor feeds.
After some time Thomas stopped at a deserted lot which was supposed to be an old park. Now the trees were long dead but the ground was littered with garbage and other waste. Shifting aside some debris he slowly dug a hole with his hands in the stale dirt. Once the hole was deep enough he threw the box in. The lid popped open to reveal it’s contents. There were bones inside and filled the box nearly to the brim. Thomas stooped down to sift through the bones a bit to pull out what appeared to be small cards. They were in fact identification cards of the owners of the bones. Some of the cards had dark musty stains. Picking one up Thomas looked over at the former owner’s face. A slight wave of sadness washed over Thomas as he looked at the Elysian face staring back at him. All of the bones had come from Elysians that he had blamed for the deaths of his family. Wrongly blamed. Their screams as he flayed them alive were still preserved in his memory. Tossing the card back inside Thomas stood up. “I’m sorry.” Pushing the dirt and debris over the hole as fast as he could, Thomas returned it to it’s former state and hoped it would remain undisturbed. A final resting place for the remains of all the victims of his rage.
With that unsavory task done Thomas then headed for where he could find some sort of relief from everything. Stored map data and links to datanet feeds helped direct him to his destination but for the most part he knew the way by heart. Eventually he turned into an alley and began to walk down some steps next to an old building. The steps led to a door with a sign overhead that read plainly in faded paint: Rusty Bones.
Thomas pulled on the door handle and felt the sensation of machinery interrogation. The old looking handle was disguised to detect the cyber-signature of full conversion cyborgs by talking to their operating system. It would release the lock upon confirmation. The door immediately opened and gave Thomas access to a wide hallway which was taller than even himself. He walked down the hall until he reached another door that opened up into a large rectangular room. There were tables of various heights set up around a large conspicuous bar that occupied one side of the room. Bottles and glass lined the walls and the bartender was more serving facility than human. There were several sets of arms moving around and more than one head suspended by a mechanical swivel taking orders. The entire room was populated only by full conversion cyborgs. They varied in size and type. Some did not even have human form anymore.
“’Eeey, Big Tom. ‘Ow’ve ya been mate?” greeted the bartender, another pair of arms waving at him from beneath the bar. Thomas waved a bit and walked up to the bar. More than a few of the other occupants turned and either nodded or raised a glass to Thomas. “’Aven’t seen you in a while. Retired life treatin’ you good?”
“Same old, same old. The son in law is still making good business. My little girl gave birth to a little girl.” Thomas said as he sat down on the reinforced bar stool. Without even asking there was already a shot glass placed in front of him being filled. Thomas took the glass and raised it to his ‘mouth.‘ The mouth opened a slight intake port from which the liquid could pour down into. He finished the glass and placed it down on the bar. It was already being refilled when the bartender began to talk to him. “So, bit of a mess we got out there, eh?”
A snorting electronic chuckle came from Thomas. “Mess is putting it lightly, Phil. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing everyone’s sob story about the plague by now.” he replied before taking a sip this time. “I can handle my problems myself.” Phil just nodded a head on the swivel. His face was flat with two bulbous circular eyes and a mouth piece that lit up when he talked. “ I ben ‘earing lots from everyone that ‘ates the bum, but not one sayin’ anythin’ ‘bout what they gonna do to th’ bastard.”
Thomas just leaned back a little bit and put both hands on the bar counter. “Yes, it would be nice to hear about someone doing something useful. Look at all these riots. Nothing more than pointless wasted effort.” he said before taking a sip from his drink. “I can understand why everyone wants to riot. The government is powerless to do anything. How can anyone live agreeably when we know there won’t be any justice.” he said. After another sip from his drink he then leaned in closer to look the bartender close in the eyes. “Now, if there happened to be some rich private citizen who decided they wanted to ‘hire’ some folks to go on a ‘hunting expedition’ then maybe we could get somewhere.”
Thomas and Phil shared a low knowing laugh together before sighing. While Thomas continued to empty the glass the bartender shook his head slowly. “Sorry mate. ‘Aven’t ‘eard of anything like that coming round.” Thomas set the glass down and leaned forward slightly. “Didn’t think so.”
“Yeh jest hevn’t looked in th’ righ’ places, luv.” said a silky female voice from behind Thomas. There wasn’t anyone there but he knew who the source was. Standing up he pushed the glass away from him and turned away from the bar. Philip just went back to his work, an electronic calculated tab was already sent to Thomas. It was shoved into another memory file to remind him to pay it off later. Right now he had more pressing matters. In a more concealed stall where a passive sensor filter offered more privacy he found the source of the voice.
“Shannon O’Adair, same booth as usual.” he said as he settled into the seat. Sitting across from him was a female cyborg. Her elbow was set on the table with her face resting in her hand. The long flowing purple hair fell off to the sides of her face which was still of a natural human appearance. The skin however looked ashen as though she were dead. Her body was a dull metallic gray color which gave off no reflection. Her entire body was thin and wispy but the hard edges and contours of metal gave a subtle durability to her frame. The hands and forearms were wicked looking gauntlets of spikes and sharp fingers. Her feet had two big toes that pointed at the tip and her knees bore spikes that pointed upward. Everything about her body gave the impression of being a living knife blade.
“Big Tom, yeh ol’ brute. Quit talkin’ te me wi’ tha’ voice. Tha’ voice jus’ ain’ laek you.” Shannon said in her heavy accent. Thomas was well acquainted with it though and humored his old comrade’s request. “Feh, yer as demandin’ as evah, Shannon.” Thomas replied, his voice module changing so that he sounded differently, his own accent now as sharp as Shannon’s. The female cyborg smiled coyly while raising an eyebrow. “When yeh ar’ in my position yeh have more room teh negotiate.”
“An’ just what is it yeh wan’ tah negotiate with th’ likes of me?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as though already bored. “Ah’m retired, remembah?” Shannon shook her head and grinned. Her teeth also consisted of the same gray metal as the rest of her body. Her eyes shimmered different colors, from red to purple to a deep shade resembling the rest of her. “Oh you won’ want teh pass this up. Aftah all you still carreh th’ remeins of yehr gran’children in yeh, don’ yeh?”
A mechanical snort escaped from Thomas. “Ah gehv you my biocode to keep in touch, not scan me innards. Ah can see you still ‘ave yehr uterus tucked awey in there.” he said. Shannon only nodded in affirmative, not that she could have hidden it from him. “Aye, tha I do. Ah still carry the only connection ah have teh my wee ones tha died in th’ plague. All five of me children and me ‘usband in one go. Lahk in th’ old stories.”
“Ol’ Braendon was a good man. ’Orrible loss of a fightah. Especially if ‘e wos willin’ ta put up with yeh.” Thomas said with a sigh. “We lost so many tha’ day. Ah still remembah th’ mission we were on, fightin’ off world with th’ res’ of th’ Irregulars. Only reason we’re still alive now.” Shannon just shook her head. “Ah wish I’d died wit mah family that day. But livin’ is what we chose teh do so ah cahn’t go joinin’ them. Not yet and specially not now. Now tha’ we know who th’ real bastahrds who killed them are.” The spikes on her body twitched slightly and her eyes shone red. Her body trembled but the shakes were so microscopic that they could only be seen via Thomas’s own enhanced vision. “Th’ stories are well known but what do we do about it is th’ question. Now talk afore Ah go an’ ‘ave me another drink at th’ bar yeh pasty wench.”
Immediately Shannon had regained control of herself and drawn up a smile on her lips. “Ah’ve been looking aroun’ an’ after readin’ the clime ah’ think we should gathah up th’ Irregulars again. There’s more then enough of us out there in th’ cities. We ‘aven’t faded away laek some would think. But ah need you Big Tom. Th’ Irregulars need the’ir Angel of Death. Ah been lookin’ intah findin’ us some richman who’se got as much reason teh hate th’ ones who caused th’ plague as we do. Ah’ve got us a few leads but ah need to show‘em we mean business.” she said before reaching out with one of her hands to hold Thomas’s. There was a pleading look on her face this time and her eyes had turned a deep blue.
There was serious conflict in Thomas now. He knew what doing this meant. He would be abandoning his family to pursue a vendetta. Celine would not soon forgive him for this. Regardless of her attitude she was dependant on him for a sense of security. Anthony would help him out somewhat but there were limits to what he could do. Then there was his promise to Nyton to live long enough to see his great grandchildren.
And yet there were the faces, still in his mind. Each of his sons, their wives, and their children. It had taken him a lot of effort to sneak onto the planet, only to manage recovering the remains of two of them: Jaden, just a baby barely started crawling, and Jacob who called him gam’pa in a voice that sometimes haunted his dreams. All of his brave boys, so determined to help the Nepleslian effort to reclaim Yamatai. All of them dead along with their wife’s families. For a second he was almost there again on that Elysian ship that they had captured. The emergency signals from Yamatai had broadcast on every frequency and received by their ship which was the first indication that something was wrong. It was shortly after that when other vessels would begin to coordinate and pass on the news of what happened. Video feeds appeared as fast as they could manage to be pulled up. There was so much disruption that facilities were failing before automatic systems could activate to keep things running. But despite anything they did, all they could do was to watch in horror while their people were dying. Many pounded fists into the walls helplessly when they recognized family members falling over dead. And there was Thomas, all over again as he screamed into the hallway of death that he had created. The dead Elysians could not reply and all around him were the echoes of comrades as their grief overwhelmed them.
Then just like that Thomas was back in the present. The moment had lasted but scant seconds and now he was in the present. He looked over at Shannon. “Ah’ll think about it.” he finally replied. Shannon set down a small chip on the palm of his hand. “When yeh’ve done yeh thinkin’ come ta these coordinates.” she said. Her voice was not one of disappointment or confirmation. It was just one of a simple business matter having come to a conclusion. “See yeh round, Big Tom.” she said and stood up to leave. Thomas didn’t follow up with anything or make any movement. He just sat there and thought.
He thought about it all the way home.