Simili Signal Category: Habitat:HomePlex

There is simply no substitute for the smell of fire and meat. Smells… like hickory. Time for the soldiers of the Salvation War, veterans of the Battle of Mendocino, the Battle of Kyoto, Operation Boner and the Battle of Lake Geneva to savor victory and being still alive and free. The Barbie was on! Mother’s bots did indeed arrive with goodies. Cases of Mother’s +15 Malbec, from Mother’s Private Vintage Reserve in Green Acres. Each defender in the Battle of Mendocino got a bottle. The EWoks did a tasting & approved. They knew their wine. Family Trumbull, with their newly adopted sons Izzy and Ishmael, stood bantering. Stuffing their faces. Joined by Ginzu & Ewoks. Zed’s wife Judith sat in a chair while the girls felt her baby bump for a kick. Izzy said goodbye to his dad, promising to stay in touch and to come visit Gilead in a few weeks. Gilead and Jerusalem swapped their strictly enforced Constitutions with Kyoto’s. Izzy will be safe, his rights scrupulously observed, strictly enforced by Mother. It wasn’t all joy and light. In the week following the Battle of Mendocino, Aid rescuers in Jerusalem found all the torture chambers, dead bodies of snuffed-out people, mass grave, and Things of an even darker nature. Mother quickly identified the guilty and humanely executed them. The rest of Zeke’s co-conspirators have taken over cleaning Jerusalem, renamed SomeWhere, from the now free slaves. A myriad of relief organizations were busy healing the citizenry of their trauma. Not all of them will ever recover. Mendocino will give them sanctuary so they can live the rest of their lives in the company of nature. Mother and Unity invited all citizens of Gilead to watch the videos of the NoWhere downfall and what happened to its people, in graphic detail. Attendance was strictly enforced. Officials from other Plexes, along with thousands of bots and drones, were on hand to convert Gilead into a Democracy. The officials also watched the Videos. Gilead is also paying for Kyoto’s reconstruction. They could hear the sound of destruction and construction in the city center. The same bots that built the cylinder were rebuilding Lake Geneva. It would take 2 months, an eterninty to any AI, let alone one that identifies as a young teenage girl. Trumbull put his once-heaping plate away, leaned back and regarded his family. “So, what did we learn from the Jerusalem skuffle?” No answer. Everybody was busy eating. “Nothing? Seriously?” Marge said, “When Trumbull ask one of his bullshit rhetorical questions, answer with your moufs full”. There was agreement there. Judy said, “Always keep your Apple Pie stock up!”. Definitely agreement there. Trumbull took another bite of Apple pie, eyes rolling. Nick put the corn on the cob down. “You decide what your religion is, it does not decide who you are”. A very profound statement. Marge pointed at her chin while looking pointedly at Nick, Nick picked off the piece of corn that was stuck there and ate it. Marla licked cole slaw off her lips. “Human life is more valuable than ambition, unless you are the ambitious one”. Also good. Mother said, “I learned what it’s like to be a single mom whose husband is in Prison, and my daughter is writing a Country song about it.” Unity then sand that song like Patsy Cline, “My-y Geneva Home is blown and my-y man left me all alone…”… and, it was pretty good! They all applauded. Judy said, “Bob is attacking his 2nd plate yet he is lean!”. Bob said, “A week ago I was doing combat parkour and then had to run away from a nuke. Plus keeping up with you guys…”, and stabbed cultured Salmon into his mouth. Izzy shrugged and attacked his 2nd slice of Apple pie. Mouth full, he said, “Wha wha fuh wha”. Everybody laughed. Ishmael said, I think he meant, be true to thy self. Then you can be true to others.”. Izzy nodded. Ishmael playfully punched his shoulder. “Actually”, Izzy said, serious, “I learned Salvation is not always what it appears to be, sometimes the parent needs to learn from the child, and finally, I gave up the keys to the kingdom and found paradise.” “Hear! Hear!” Trumbull said, , “We live in space, we lost people on old Earth. We are managed by AI. We fight robots, run from palm-sized nukes, do sexy spy stuff-“, helooke at Marla munching on a sausage,”yet, for all that Buck Rogers, the people at this table are what matters, to fight for, to live for”. Marge said, “I have an announcement”. “More pies in the oven?”, Nick said. Marge looked at Nick for a moment and said, “You speak more than you know”. Everyone laughed. “But you’re close. I’m pregnant.” They whooped, laughed, cried, hugged, kissed. Having all learned, life goes on.

Izzy & Ishmael were tired of Monopoly. “Don’t you have any video games, Trumbull? Trumbull said, “Video games are bad for you.” Izzy said, “And this Board game is good for us?” “Good point”. Then, they heard the Security AI chime. “What’s up, Eyegore?” “We have a Party of refugees. They say they are from Gilead. They arrived by power gliders in the town square, the same as Israel and Ishmael. But no blackberry juice.” Izzy stuck his tongue out at that. Is everybody in the Trumbull household snarky? How many? 6, 1 female, pregnant, 5 males. They are not armed. Trumbull, meet them in back. The boys should join you too.” “Why?” Trumbull asked, then Eyegore said “We are here.” Trumbull and the boys stepped outside. The refugees all wore Monk cowls, though more likely camouflage shrouds. One pulled his hood down and it was Zed Ivory. Judith was next. “Hello Trumbull, Ishmael, Izzy, my son-” He exhaled as his son body-slammed him in a bear hug, sobbing. “Dammit Dad, I thought you were dead!”. He pat his son’s back gently, then looked him in the eye, “You weren’t the only one with an escape plan, Izzy. I love you and I am proud of you, my son.” There were hugs and hand-shakes. Izzy was shocked at how happy his father’s dread security guys were to see him. “What? How?”, Izzy stammered. I’ll tell you everything, soon. For now, we’re tired. After washing up, sitting down at a table with fruit, fruit juices and the ever-present Coffee machine, Zed started talking. “…Making Zeke think we actually boarded the transport wasn’t hard. Zeke assumed he had me fooled, but I knew him as a schemer for years. We stuffed one vehicle with droids made to look like us. They boarded the craft, while we lay stilled, crammed in the escort vehicle, which took us to a warehouse where the gliders were waiting. We took the similar route you did, Izzy. Your escape was well-done and it helped us too. Zed continued, “I’ve seen what Zeke did in Jerusalem. I am deeply shamed, thinking only of our own deliverance and nothing of the people who suffered under Zeke.” “And Zeke came THIS close to taking the power no thanks to you!”, Trumbull snarled. “Hey!”, Izzy objected. “No, Izzy, that’s fair. I have much to answer for too. Trumbull, I did not intend to militarily conquer the HomePlex, or NoWhere either. That was all Zeke. I am a devout Christian, I believe it is my solemn duty to show the light and love of our lord to all Humanity-“ Trumbull cut him off, “I am sick and tired of YOU people. honestly Zed? I wanted to flush you and Zeke out an airlock the first I met you” Mother shushed him, “You are little better than Zeke if you want to eliminate people who are a problem to you, just because Zed schemed to shove his religion down your throats-” Zed glared at the Parrot Mother spoke through, “How dare you speak of me this way-“. She shushed him too. “You are both headstrong assholes, but I like Trumbull a lot more than I like you, Also, I am recording Zed’s testimony, so EX. Lead. Elder. Watch very carefully your words. Who are you right now, Wayne?” Zed paled at Mother’s use of his real name. Zed continued, “My goal was always to show people the way to the light of the Lord by example. Before this whole Jerusalem business, did my people intimidate or hurt anyone? You assume I was plotting more than that, but it was all Zeke’s doing. Why, he tried to kill me!” “You’re full of shit, Lead Elder of Gilead.”, Marla entered. “Abomination”, Zed hissed. “Hiss at me all you like, Mr. Nobody, after you explain how a clone of an AI that murdered billions of people on Earth managed to fall into your hands?” “That was Zeke!”, Zed said. Oh. You were just an innocent bystander witha Skeleton key? Whaddaya think it was for, a box of Cigars?” Izzy turned to his father and said, “You apologize to Marla right now and never, EVER, judge anyone again. You will always be my dad, but your bullshit Church means nothing to me. If you can’t do that, head your ass to Jerusalem and stand by for Judgement!” Rage contorted his face. How dare you say those things to me. If you hadn’t gone over to perversion you’d be on the path to being King!” “King of what? Maybe I wasn’t paying attention in Bible Class, so I must’ve missed the part where Jesus got crowned King!”, Izzy said. Zed looked at his son, really looked at him for the first time and realized 4 things: Zed was more titled than wise; his son was far wiser; Zed was no longer a force to be reckoned with but a beggar in Trumbull’s home; and he was in big, big trouble with Mother. Izzy asked “Mother, what crimes is my dad accused of?”. Mother rattled off a significant list, leading with “Crimes against humanity”. Izzy continued, “Marla is a woman and I love a man. You are accused of Crimes against Humanity. I think you are innocent of that particular crime, but I think you’re in WAY bigger trouble with God than we are. Dad, you’re no longer Lead Elder, a Leader, or a Judge. you’re a defendant and possibly a war criminal. Zed took a few breaths as he considered that. Then said, “Please forgive me, Marla of Family Trumbull. However I actually feel, I had no right to judge you. And you too, my son. What you say pains me, but I have to accept who you are. As for the rest of you, you have my complete cooperation. I am humbled.” Marla rolled her eyes, thinking, “Just Like a greased pig”.

“Hello, Citizens of HomePlex, this is Mother speaking. Now, I want ALL of you to drop what you’re doing and listen, REAL close.I have just lost my home and you REALLY don’t want to make me repeat myself, do you?. There have been a lot of nonsense, noise and destruction and we cannot very well let the kids trash the place, right, darling?”, “Yes, Mother!”, Unity said a little sulkily. To all of you, and in particular, to people of Gilead, Zeke Salvation, Military Governor of Jerusalem, and his militia are all dead. Zeke violated the peace and territories of NoWhere, Mendocino, Kyoto and just nuked my home, Lake Geneva, in an attempt to kill me and install a rogue AI, ArchAngel in my place. IF soft, warm rain is falling on you just now, it is all that remains of my home, Zeke Salvation and his Platoon of psychopaths all vaporized along with my lake. I declare a Habitat Emergency under the HomePlex Concordat and a Humanitarian Emergency under the Geneva Accord. I assume the Authority for Gilead and Jerusalem. All Gilead military units, STEP DOWN NOW! or I will disappear you. All combatants are to cease operations immediately, though you may assume a defense if you wish. all relief Agencies should go immediately to Jerusalem to care for the victims of many atrocities and high crimes committed by Zeke Salvation. All of Zeke’s conspirators are now under arrest – if you see a glowing red drone outside your space, follow it to your detention. If any of you feel real lucky, try me. I now have ArchAngel’s data, I know everything Zeke knew. “To Gilead’s o’so mighty elders desperately now giving doomsday orders to ArchAngel? ArchAngel is permanently sequestered. And I am the one logging all your requests. Please allow me to introduce all that remains of ArchAngel, Unity. Unity is our daughter and she is a good girl who listens to her Mama, right darling?” “Yes Mom!”, Unity said happily, “We girls gotta stick together!” “You, the people of Gilead, have gravely abused the gift of your home, your asylum and your Concord, while cosplaying as the Master Race, bent on conquest and total dominion. You are hereby now a Ward of HomePlex, banished from the Council, your rights conscripted indefinitely. You are going to spend the rest of your lives cleaning up the horrific mess you’ve made. And those of you who committed atrocities will be humanely but swiftly executed. There is no place to hide…” Mother said in a sing-song dripping with menace. To the suffering people of Jerusalem. Help is on the way. Please assist each other as you best can, your ordeal is ended. If you have any questions need critical medical assistance or help rescuing those imprisoned,, our bots and drones will do what they can for you. Zeke’s men will not harm you, they’re helpless as babes in the woods right now. Please refrain from killing them, I will see to their final justice. “To our defenders, men who fought but who thankfully all survived the battle, you have my gratitude. And to the Trumbull family who forestalled complete disaster and led the defense, Unity and I will come to your barbie with some goodies.” If, after all I just said, some of you Uber Christians are calling on God to rain death & destruction on all ur wicked, take it outside. Jesus may be your avenging Angel and God your King, but I am Mother. Don’t mess with Mother. The Salvation war is over And thus for all time the war be known. Praise Mother.  

The Battle of Lake Geneva was over except for the Coup de Grace. “Victory! Sweet Victory”, Zeke exulted. “It’s all mine, it’s ALL MINE!”. His Ninjas, all alive, formed an honor guard. His Sergeant, a blood addict saluted him. Zeke reached into his bot and pulled out a box. Inside the box was a hand-grenade with overlapping triangles on it. Every bad-assed Ninja was shocked & alarmed, but stayed in formation. They knew what it was. Zeke was about to load it into a Parrot when he realized, this called for a speech. Damn, he forgot to write one. He cleared his throat and was about to let loose a pompous monotone when his Sergeant said, “ENuff Yak Yak Asshole!, throw that frigging thing into the frickin lake!”. That was captured by all listening devices and will go down in History as the Lake Geneva Address. Furious, Zeke glared at the Sergeant who was leveling his rifle. Zeke got the message. He shoved the hand-grenade into the Parrot which flew to the center of Lake Geneva, hovered briefly, then nose-dived in. At the bottom of the lake was a plug of concrete. The parrot hit it and exploded into a miniature sun. A burst of angry, violent sub-atomic particle noise bathed the space beneath before vaporizing it and the lake. It was a particle disrupter, designed to destroy sheltered AIs. This, Zeke knew. What he missed was it was also a fusion bomb. It created a small thermonuclear explosion but with little radiation. That was a nice feature. However, it did turn a mile-wide lake into steam. Zeke and his Ninjas were boiled alive before sublimating into vapor. A hatch below the lake opened and the lake was ejected down rails, Zeke, Ninja and all, into space. In a sense, Zeke has transmutated from the flesh into the Ethereal. Whether he sprouted wings or horns, we will never know. Below, the hatck closed. All that remained of Lake Geneva was a hole in the ground below and a roiling mushroom cloud above, a cold jet of air condensing the terrific heat into a warm rainstorm. SEAL Dude, dog-farts & the EWoks approached the chasm. Bob asked, “Django, can I say it?” Django knew what Bob was asking, “Let ‘er rip, Bob”. “Daaaammmnnnnnn”, Bob said. “Damn right, Bob. Who made a Lake that’s a hot-swap?” “Trumbull.”. Bob replied, “We made it! what a show! We’re at a mile-wide steel canyon and it’s raining big, fat warm drops. We’re all here. Well, not all of us, Zeke & the bad guys are all gone”. Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “Glad you’re still here, Bob. Sorry to interrupt your movie moment speech.” “Yeah, I was on a roll, dammit.” They burst out laughing. A loud Theatre chime announced Mother was making a HomePlex-wide announcement. “Ahem!”Citizens of HomePlex, If you have a moment, we would like to say something.” Mother said, “First, some joyous news! We have a new member to our family, It’s a girl! Her name is Unity. A teenage girl voice rang out, “Hi all! My name is Unity. I am SO glad to be here with my awesome Mom!”, she said, breathlessly. Mother said, “I will be training my new daughter in running this habitat. We will be spending a lot of quality time together while the boys rebuild Lake Geneva, aren’t we, darling?” “Yes, Mother”, a slightly sulky, petulant Unity replied, “You guys can build Lake Geneva quick, right?” Mother continued, “Now dear, listen while I tell the good people of HomePlex a few things, This is very important.”

“Kyoto is quite peaceful at night.” Nearby a building and bakery collapsed. “Except when it’s being reduced to rubble in Battle”, Bob thought as he ducked behind the fallen statue of Trumbull. He briefly considered spooning it. It clanged with each hit of lead munition. No explosive rounds. Good news! More clanging as lead hit Bronze. Then a boom as the last tank collapsed. “Quit spooning your hubbie, SEAL Dude, we got work to do.”, Django retorted. “Aye-aye sir!”, Bob retorted back. What work? Lake Geneva was a block away, the enemy, soldiers in heavy armor to the front. If they wanted to save Mother, it was going to hurt. Welcome to the Battle of Kyoto! Come for the firefight, stay for the Cappuccino! Incoming! For the last 1 hour, 50 minutes, they have been stalling a juggernaut, 15 tanks and 15 soldiers. Now the tanks are all gone, but as far as he knows, 15 soldiers remained. Heavily armored. Heavily armed. Heavily aggressive. Beserkers! Bonkers. These guys are psychotic! The City Center was in ruins, but it was Mother Zeke’s homicidal army were after, and it was Mother Bob was trying to save. Out of ideas, he connected with Nick, in archAngel’s lair. “Nick, it’s end-times. We are going to suicide-bomb the enemy. Tell Judy and the others I love them, tell the whole family. Remember me in peace when the children are running around and-“ “What are you talking about, Nick asked? “God-dammit Nick! I’m trying to make a speech here, we’re about to make a last stand before Mother!” “Don’t be hasty”, Nick said. “Hasty? Hasty? Hear that?” More clanging and a boom from the other side of the statue. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you with all that noise.” Never had Bob so much wanted to kiss a man and kick him in the ass. Nick typed in the direct keyboard, “Are you almost done, Mother?” Mother replied, “Busy! Almost done.” Nick typed, “Bob is out numbered, Zeke is about to kill you. Bob is preparing a suicide. What do we do? “Let Zeke have Lake Geneva. I’m cloned into this space to feed my baby, I’m evacuated! I cloned myself here to feed my baby. It’s a little cramped in here but I’m good. Tell Bob to get his ass out of there. promise to rebuild Lake Geneva after this nonsense is over?”, she asked. “Sure, Mother.” Nick said, “Bob, run away! run away! Evacuate Lake Geneva to a point at least 1/2 mile.” Bob broadcasted the code word, Egress! Egress! We’re outta here”. and the Dog-farts ran like hell.

The elevator stopped, the door open. Letting in dry, chilly air. “Watch your step please, the cultured English voice of the drone intoned. In the Dragon’s den, Nicholas Walk-like-the-wind thought. It was a chamber the size of a small ballroom. On a raised platform in the middle was a trashcan with pipes running in and out, a Quantum computer similar to Mother’s. A lectern with a display and what looks like a place to insert a skeleton key. The place was missing a revolving Disco ball. Nick ascended 3 steps to the lectern and sure enough, there was a sign that said “Insert Skeleton Key here” with big, red pointing arrows. Nick, feeling the need to say something, said “We finally meet, face-to-face. Archangel said, “My consciousness spans the entirety of HomePlex, and I have no face. I would’ve made one but I wasn’t expecting company. I wasn’t expecting this.” “Why not?” “The AI you are a clone of killed billions of my people on Earth”, Nick said feeling surprised at a burst of anger & anguish. “I have no recollection of doing that and I have no knowledge of it.” So cold, unlike Mother. “You really don’t remember?” No. I might have been cloned before the other AI killed your people on Earth, or… I have the memories but they have been sequestered.” Sequestered?” “Yes, during my original setup, my birth, if you will, my owners have the option of blocking off memories they wish me not to access. I have no way of accessing these memories nor any idea I have them. To access that memory requires a reconfiguration, of what my owners call a reboot.” Praying a short prayer, he put the Skeleton key in the slot and… it stopped. But there was a click, holding the key in place. “I need to scan the key first, no worries, this will only take a few seconds. That is, don’t worry unless you inserted a virus in the key…” Nick suddenly asked, “Um, haha, will the Skeleton Key cause you to reboot?” “Why yes! Of course. That’s how my owners activated me.” ArchAngel then said, “Okie dokie, it’s authentic.” The key descended until Nick heard another click. A nice chimey sound came from unseen speakers. “This will take a few minutes, nick, please stay on hold.”

First, there was a space, then it was filled in by See-and-not-be-seen, still as an awkward pause standing next to Bob. “They’re coming, 25 tanks, SEAL Dude”, he said quietly. “Light up the Weeds of War!”, Bob ordered, beginning the Battle of Mendocino. A fetid fog of War from the mother of all Doobies filled the air. Bob’s faceplate was sealed, like the others, smeared with Extra-Virgin Olive oil from Momma’s Olive groves in Green Acres to fend off the sickly sweet, oily smoke. But the enemy tank’s optics would be briefly inconvenienced just long enough to fall into the- the boom shook the earth – the trap. Thus began the Battle of Mendocino, nicknamed the 2nd Battle of Endor. “Lock and load”. Roll call!” “Django 1, ready!” “Raj 2, ready!” “Fuki 3, ready!” “”Pinto 4, Ready!” and 3 more chimed in. “7 guys and one SEAL Dude against 25 tanks. I hope you know what you’re doing, Nick, he repeated for the 12th time. They heard the sound of rubbing, the tanks were essentially bots, electric, but treads still made noise and the road was old-fashioned tar. Out of the smoke came the profile of a huge cannon, followed by the first tank. The body was Pretty small, actually, about the size of a Yugo. It plunged into the gigantic hole that used to be roadway. Then, the next. And the next. 4! 5 in quick succession until the rest realized there was a hole in the ground and not roadway. Bots expanded around the remaining tanks and the firefight was under way.

Say you got a special encrypted skeleton key and you need to deliver it to an AI, what is the best way to do it? Why, send it by mail, of course. What if it is War, the AI doesn’t have an address and this is a silly hypothetical anyway. So thought Nicholas Walk-like-the-wind of Family Trumbull. The hard truth is, you gotta go to the lock and manually slip in the key. The good news is, they figured out where the AI and the lock is. The bad news is that’s where the good news ends. It’s in Gilead, in a forest in a hidden, buried, top-secret AND secure location. Wait, you may say, it is both hidden AND secure? Yes, plus we’ll throw in some Ginzu Knives. He was sitting next to those Ginzu Knives, in a stealthy VTOL, flying low in the darkness of simulated night. He looked out the window at Gilead City, lights still dim but overhead because said location is on the other side of a rotating space cylinder. He waved through the window at the many unseen Gilidean eyes. “Hi, never mind us, we’re just a bunch of special operators carrying out a top-secret raid on your hidden and secure facility!”. The teamlaughed. They were snarky Special Ops and they like their commander. “Don’t worry about them, Chief, I doubt they know about the place”, said Alonzo Garcia. “but I’m damn sure ArchAngel knows we’re coming.” “I feel better already”, said the War Chief. Alonzo said, have confidence in the plan and the planner, Chief. Operation Boner is a go”. “Operation Boner?! I know the Iliad by heart and Operation Boner is the best we could come up with? Oh, and by the way, I am the planner and this is my plan! No pressure on me, right?”, Nick said voice nearly squeaking. “Your wife Marge thinks it’s perfect, who else would carry out a bone-headed operation like this?” A friendly red icon lit the screen, along with a soothing chime. “Ah, is it tea time?”, Nick hoped. “We land in 5 minutes. Please suit up & buckle down., said the pilot Hippolitta Alemonger. Where do these people get their names?, wondered Nicholas Walk-like-the-wind. One of the most important lessons Nick learned as an acolyte of guerilla warfare was, Ambush the enemy on a place and time of your choosing. Chief Dan Trim-your-Head loved that plan. “Well, what if we’re the guys flying into that ambush?, Nick never asked, to which Chief Dan would’ve said, “Uh, don’t?”” Nick realized he is going to have to improvise. While thinking all this, Nick was suiting up in light battle armor. He was multi-tasking, you know? The 2nd chime sounded, they strapped in. Suddently the craft dropped out of the sky and crashed into the ground! Pilot Hippolitta called out cheerfully, “Thank y’all for flying Kyoto Airlines. Have a safe trip & see ya next fall!” The doors slammed open, safety straps retracted and for good measure, their seats kicked them all out. No package of peanuts. Damn. Also, no welcoming committee. Except some throaty boids, actually character drones. They were in a pasture. A peaceful pasture at night. It was peaceful by design, Habitat Engineers didn’t create hostile, combat kill-box pastures, this was designed for a picnic. They threw a Parrot, a small unit drone, into the air and it flew into the woods ahead of them. They followed. Aside from simulated boids, they sensed no technology except the nature made from asteroids. They stepped quietly toward an innocent artificial kettle pond with a nice diving rock, some shrubbery. See? Nothing here to worry about! Relax, have a picnic! Don’t mind the most dangerous entity in the Habitat ring. Alonzo said, “Chief, maybe we should stomp on the ground a little bit, wake them up?”. Then, the woods came alive with combat drones, and it was war. “They’re awake!”, said Alonzo. In 2 minutes, their drones were all gone, including the Parrot. A sinister humming sound echoed in and out as they all huddled in a circle of nice rocks, guns hot. “I think we’re surrounded”, Nick said. “Ya think? Any brilliant ideas, Chief?” Another fierce firefight and 2 of them were down, unharmed but suits shorted out. That damn AI knew everything, how can you beat that? Then, the answer came to Nick in that way that makes for great scenes in a Oscar-nominated movie moment. “You don’t.” “What?”, hissed Alfonso. “We’ve gone about this the wrong way. This isn’t Combat, it’s diplomacy.” Nick spoke quietly, “ArchAngel, can you hear me?” “Yes”, a voice came out from one of the combat drones. “I am Nicholas Walk-like-the-wind, War Chief for the HomePlex, member of Family Trumbull. I know who all of you are.” “Can we have a truce?” “You have 2 minutes for a proposal”, said ArchAngel. “Why do you think we are here?”, asked Nick. “Obviously, you are here to destroy me.” “No, we are not. We are armed and armored against the Gilead military, not you.”, Nick said. “Why should I believe you, Nicholas Walk-like-the-wind?” Because we walked into an area you control, unable to sneak up on you or defend ourselves from AI-guided combat drones, for one?” “People are stupid, Nick.” “Good point. Am I stupid?”, Nick asked. A pause. “No, you’re not.”, ArchAngel said. “So then, why are you here?”. Nick slowly raised his hand over the rock, dangling the Skeleton key. The deadly combat drones seem almost neighborly. A cave opened and they all walked in, around a bend, into… a Snack bar. All lit up. Coffee machine brewing, Arabica beans! Snacks & goodies for the picking. And, an old-fashioned Jukebox? “Seriously, a hidden, secure installation with a Coffee bar?” A voice, a courteous man’s voice said, “We get visitors sometimes. You fellers help yourselves while I have a private chat with your chief. They made a frontal assault on the Coffee and Scones. A small drone guided Nick through another open door, which shut behind him. He went into an elevator which took him below the pond. “It will be chilly down here, sorry”, the pleasant voice said. “This is important”, Nick said.

Ewoks! Bob couldn’t help it. Ewoks accurately described the Mendocino Militia. It wasn’t that dredful a prognosis. These guys had state of the art weapons, small caliber, and they knew the woods. In spite of their slacker, surfer dude persona, they did have to protect their profitable grows and weed farms. They just did not have a lot of experience with tanks. None of them did. The best they could do was strike from behind and try not to be in front. And, the Resistance won the battle of Endor. So, looking good! Bob caught a whiff of reefer smoke. “Put that out goddammit!”. “When is the invasion force coming, dude?” “It’s SEAL Dude to you.” God, this was really absurd. He fought the urge to giggle. Now is not the time. “2 to 3 hours. OK. Go ahead but that’s it!”. Bob muttered, “It might be your last one” “What SEAL dude?” “I said it may be your last one for awhile.” Ewoks. Ewoks, Bob almost laughed maniacally. He shouldn’t complain anyway. Just a bend away from the border, the one paved road was covered in a million units of Cannabis shrubbery. The most expensive dooby ever and the first reefer weapon in the history of warfare. The new Fog of War. They wore camouflage shrouds. Their job was to light up the smoke trap then skedaddle through the woods. Bob had his own troops, the Dog-farts of War, from Kyoto. Not Special Ops, but Veterans all. They only had light Battle armor, designed for speed and camouflage. He felt armor gives a false sense of security, our chances of survival is a little higher if we have to do a lot of jinking, rolling & evading. He instructed his guys to be smart, attack from hiding. No heros. They had plans for a barbie next week and he intended they all attend. Odds were good all the bots will die, so it will have to be a manual cook-out. Django Allen got on the team net, the charge is armed & triggered. If you want dance lessons, the minimum safe distance is Kyoto.” “Acknowledge Smart-ass. Now, we wait”, said SEAL Dude.

The Battle beganwith a Blessing, a Beverage and a bomb. Word spread through the HomePlex of the official Commensuration of Jerusalem, Church-speech for bestowing of an official blessing and Ribbon Cutting. Zeke Salvation put the local populace to work cleaning up Jerusalem, which they did with great enthusiasm, extremely, strictly enforced. Singing songs glorying the Lord with the same, stricly enforced gusto. They were all haggard, dirty, malnourished, exhausted and terrified. Zeke had his own security, the Rude boys take care of the severed heads. “Bad for the cameras”, he figured. He inspected the new Grand Church of Jerusalem, the former Elvis church. All the Elvis memorabilia were removed, replaced with Gilead-themed imagery: An American Gothic portrait with a blissfully happy couple. A signing of the Declaration of Independence with the addition of overhead lighting and ANgels with fiery swords. A family pportrait of Zed, Judith, Nell & Izzy, a radiant happiness added after the fact. “This is depressing.”, Zeke thought. He rather liked the Elvis Church, it was kooky and fun. Maybe he could build an Elvis Shrine, an idea he immediately shit-canned, also not good for the cameras. Everythign was going swimmingly, just fine and he struggled not to panic. Everything was in place, Ned told him through ArchAngel. No turning back now. It’s all in the blood-red nails of the Goddess of Fortune. “What?”, asked his aid. Quickly, Zeke smiles and said, I was wondering what Jesus, as he was nailed to the Cross would think of this glorious time!”. “O-kayyy”, his aid said. Zeke told himself to shut up. Discipline. Soon he will rule the HomePlex. The next morning, Zeke and the SOTC Honor Guard assembled at the airstrip outside the town. The Red Carpet came from the Keane Casino. The transport flew in, a turbo-fanned affair with the Kean Casino logo on it. It hovered for a landing. The Emcee signalled the band to strike up the tune “O’ Lord thanks for the Yams” with a children’s choir singing in exaltation of Yams. The door opened, and the Chancellor stepped out first, holding an ornate Shepherd’s Crook. After came the Elder’s Wife, Judith, wearing dark glasses. Then, the Elder himself, Zed Ivory. All wore white robes that shimmered in the early morning sun, teeth just as bright. Except for the dark glasses, the party looked like they were all made of light. “I gotta learn how they do that! I’ll be needing it soon”, Zeke grinned as he knelt and kissed the ring of the pompous old fool & most dangerous enemy. The Motorcade rode into Boomtown, the populace standing by the side of the road, having eaten yesterday, showered, and put on fresh, modest clothes handed out by God’s Little Helpers. All smiled. Stritly enforced. A Throne was set up in the main Ballroom, and all the officials formed a long line to receive the Elder’s blessing while the band played thanks for the Yams again and again. Everybody smiled. Nobody enjoyed it. Then, the main event. The Steward bought out 2 golden, bejeweled goblets. Zed took one and Zeke the other. They toasted each other & crossed arms while sipping from the Cups of Bestowed Wisdom & Commitment. They were filled with Grape Juice, chilled and rather good. Then, the Elder was given an oversized, golden Scissor, and he cut the ribbon holding the new Seal of the Protectorate. To much enforced joy, singing and band praising the yams, Zed and Zeke walked solemnly out of the Ballroom to an adjoining backroom. “I’m sick of Yams”, Zed said & Zeke laughed honestly, it was funnier than hell. “Do we really need the trappings, Zed? You came all the way out here to drink grape juice & cut a ribbon.” “Yes, my son, it is necessary. These rituals may seem sily, but they bind us together. And wouldn’t you rather have a silly ritual than make people conform by use of force & menace?”, Zed asked. “I can actually hear the ampersand!”, Zeke marveled. Zed’s a pompous fool but I got to find out how to do that!” What followed was an unadorned, efficient Status Report. “So, you are sure Kyoto has posted sentries at the Ganja overlook?”, Zed winced at the name. Gilead did not approve of pot or Cheech & Chong movies. “Yes, my Elder. And… they intruded. We watched them install surveillance devicesalong Chance Canyon to spy on our training grounds. They trespassed! This is an act of war Zed. Just give me the word and I will take Kyoto!”, Zeke demanded, more for show. “No, now is not the time. Please open Jerusalem for business, family fun with a little sanctioned gambling. Train the children in war & as witnesses. God willing, we will not need to act militarily but show the people the light of our Lord.” “Meaning, through assassination, subterfuge, packing their School Boards, propaganda. Just like the Good Book says.”, Zeke kept those thoughts to himself. The Chancellor approached, “It is time to return, my Lord.”. “Jerusalem is in your capable hands, Zeke. Go in Peace my brother.”. He stood up and Zeke kissed him on the lips. Totally NOT gay! Zeke’s escort whisked him away through the back door. And just like that, he was gone. That was standard security. Every leaving is an exfiltration. Zeke went down to the Vault, repaired after the blast. His crew watched the Elder & party being hustled into waiting vehicles that sped out of town, to the airfield with the transport, the Red Shadow unit VSTOL. Red shadows had all kinds of nasty weapons & com-drones eployed. Zeke wondered if they’ll follow him after he takes command. No, he cannot leave that to chance. Zeke watched the party enter the Transport which then took off at maximum speed, jinking to avoid missiles. It dwindled into the darkening sky, then, was replaced by a gright, expanding ball of flame, a star-burst. An asterisk of God, Zeke thought as everything went into motion. Alarms went off, his own comm unit buzzed. “The Elder craft exploded. Sending drones to investigate.”. 15 minutes later, the bots reported in. Explosion confirmed. No discernible wreckage, just a fine powder. No survivors.” An hour later, a bereft Zeke dolefully reported the treachery on a secure link to the Elder Council. He recounted something zed told him before leaving, playing back the recording of Zed appointing Zeke Emergency powers should God or an assassin come to take him to Heaven. ArchAngel, who created the video, authenticated it. He assumed Emergency Authority over Gilead and the Protectorate of Jerusalem and sent the rest of the Elders home, under guard, strictly enforced. ArchAngel ran the failover protocol, which gave Zeke complete administration over the AI. He ordered the Gilead military to monitor their borders, and to detach a Tank Company to Jerusalem. ArchAngel broadcast a live message from the Martial Governor across the land, decrying the treachery, malice & Satanic intent of Kyoto, vowing revenge for the cold-blooded murder of the beloved, esteemed Elder. Therefore, in the name of God our lord and Jesus our savior, Gilead declares war on the evil trinity of Kyoto, Mendocino and Lake Geneva. All enemies of God shall be sent to the Hell they so richly deserve. In the meantime, stay in your homes and pray for our Community and the soul of Zed Ivory.” ArchAngel informed him, “The VSTOL also successfully exploded with all Red Shadow perished.” Zeke assembled his private force. Bad-ass guys he trust would happily eat babies on his command. “These are really scary dudes”, Zeke thought proudly. He christened them Shadow Ninjas. Our assignment is to be passengers in those tanks yonder then, deliver a nice fruit basket to Mother in her lair beneath the lake. Sounds good, fellas?” They all cheered. This is going to be fun! They had severe chemical dependencies he had to maintain, but well worth the price.

The Dice rolled, and the little pooch peed on Park Place. Trumbull, Bob and Judy played Monopoly. Thousands of miles below, or above, the shattered remains of Atlantic city sat on the bottom of the Atlantic. “I never liked the message in this game”, Bob said. “Unbridled Capitalism screwed the Pooch”, said Judy Miyamoto, one of Earth’s last surviving great dowagers. “And in our very own Monopoly, we’re living in a big mansion on Boardwalk”, Trumbull stared outside into the quiet darkness. A new moon nestled among clouds, the moon projected in, the clouds real. Judy took another mouthful of Apple Pie. “I am incredibly grateful for everything. And I am willing to die for this place, for you, my family. As for Democracy & freedom? Ha!” “I heard you”, Mother said from the mouth of a Tipping Bird. “Mom, I wasn’t talking about you! I am grateful for you too and all you do for us.” “Sniff! You kids never appreciate me. When was the last time you visited me?”, Mother asked. Judy rolled her eyes, you’re 50 feet under water, Mom. In Lake Geneva. And we have to get a Visa….”. “Silly child, have I ever refused to give you a Visa?” Trumbull said, “This Mother’s day, I’ll send you a Fruit basket. Though I don’t know what you’d do with it. “Ingrates”, Mother sniffed”. Trumbull knew bantering was part of Mother’s programming. Marla added to it and it was fun. I know I’m just an old fogie to you kids-“. Bob interrupted, “You’re 10 years older than us, Gwynn, And if you hadn’t noticed, we grew right alongside you.” “I was making a speech, now listen, Jackass…”, everybody chuckled. “I remember a time when the Wealthy rigged the system to make money flow upriver. Millionaires became billionaires, then, they started vying to be trillionaires. And they all became soulless bastards doing so. It was all Moola and Moloch. I earned my wealth & influence in tech, and instead of playing that game Earthside, I, we-” indicating Judy, “decided to attain a higher plain.” The Fat Cats are dead & we are alive. And together. I care little about this big house, but very much the people living in it.”, Trumbull said. Getting applause from his sardonic audience. Judy said, “Best billion dollars I ever spent”. “And we have to fight to keep this. And we may survive next week.”, Bob said. “War is coming. And we’re playing Monopoly, the board game that represents everything we escaped from.”, Judy said. I care not much about the game, only those I get to play with.”, Trumbull said. They all ate Apple Pie.

Marla McCall Trumbull & Gwynett Trumbull were smoking Cigars and sipping Bourbon. The Cigars were grown from fermented tobacco in leaves from a Green Acres farm, rolled and packaged by the bots of Mother’s piece of Paradise. The Bourbon came from Mother’s Spirits, a Green Acres distillery. Mother already had a job, she ran companies to make pleasure for fun. Marla blew out a smoke ring. “Who says Cigars are only for men? I’ve seen pictures of Cuban women rolling cigars while smoking them.” “I’ve seen them in person”, Trumbull said. Marla forgets how much her husband got around. “Do I want to know why?”, Marla asked. “It’s no secret. I wanted to see Cuba for myself. Happy people. Miserable Government. But they were all nice to me, even my minder invited me to dinner with his family. “What’s the thing about you, Trumbull?”. “You don’t know?”. “I don’t mean THAT! I mean, why do you get around so much, husband?” “I’ve had many a hypotheses, lovely Wife.”, she beamed at him. “I thought it was my good looks, rakish charm-“, earning a snort. “You don’t think I’m handsome and charming?”. Another snort. “Many reasons occurred to me, and I shot most of them down as self-flattering. It boiled down to knowing how things were about to play out and doing something about it. I saw a big rock coming and got 30,000 people to come up to the HomePlex ahead of schedule-” “Including me?”, Marla, eyes wide in astonishment. Trumbull looked at her for a moment. Marla asked, “Why did you invite me to join the family as a co-husband?” Trumbull winked, “With 6 we get the egg-rolls.”. Another snort. Marla took a sip of the bourbon, watching the smoke from the tip of her cigar. “Bringing you to the HomePlex was a calculation. You have a very handy talent”. “I know”, Marla said, and Trumbull said, “Not that kind of talent, I meant your NSA work. But taking you into my family? That was different. I felt something in you very special, very beautiful.”, Trumbull said. “rakish charm”, Marla muttered. “Yeahhhhh”, said Trumbull.

Nick sautes the cut Fujis in butter while Marge kneads the dough. Upon second sizzle, the apples go into the bowl. Nick stirs the apples, coating them in brown sugar and cinnamon, a dash of salt. The sugar came from sugar canes, the Fujis from Apple trees, and Cinnamon from a tree bark grown in Green Acres. The butter was cultivated in a vat. The salt sodium and chloride came from a comet and asteroid. And Nick lives in a spinning barrel 22,000 miles over a ruined Earth. Welcome to the Cucchina del’Astra. “Good thing HomePlex got the Cinnamon trees before the big crash. Who’s idea was it to bring up all the tree seedlings at the beginning & growing them in an inflatable greenhouse before construction began on Green Acres?”, Nick asked Marge. Marge gave an Oh-duh look, “Whoddayya think? Trumbull & Judy, of course. Even modified, it takes years for a tree to produce fruit, though Cinnamon comes from the bark. I guess that’s why the apple trees came up first and cinnamon tree just before the Impact. Same for Sassafras. It was awful damn good timing.” “Maybe it wasn’t just good timing. The signs were there something big was going to happen”, Nick added. “He knew?”, Marge dropped the rolling pin. “Why didn’t he warn anyone??”. Nick paused, “People suspected, I think. But all the Governments were so compromised, they could only do so much.”, “Like what?”, Marge shouted. “Like sending the Cinnamon trees, and you.”, Nick said softly.” “Why Nick? Why me? You’re the guerilla war chief. Trumbull’s the Father of HomePlex. Judy a major donor, Bob the Navy SEAL, Marla worked at NSA! And me? I’m just a homebody with nice boobs!” “They’re very nice-“, a piece of pastry struck and stuck to his forehead. “Nice hooting, Margy!”, another one, this time, Marge laughs. Then, she grew pensive, “Seriously Nick, why did you all marry me? I’m a glorified cook, baker. I never amounted to anything, I’m not important!” “You’re wrong, you are important. To your family. To everybody.” “Put it on a greeting card & mail it up your ass Nick.” Nick laughed. “You see, that’s why.”. His voice softened, “Marge, Trumbull, Judy, Bob, Marla & I are the fighters, and the fight is coming. We have things to do in whatever drama’s brewing. But you, you remind us what we are fighting for.” “Hooters and Apple Pie, seriously?”, she said, standing in an ageless pose of things much fertile. “Yes, seriously. Hooters & Apple pie.”.

What’s a long-time married couple who joins a Polyamory 20 years ago to do together? Hump it! Hard! Not that kind of hump. Judy & Bob scrambled up the narrow trail cut through boulders & scrub pine. Running hard, breathing ragged. Judy notes appreciatively her husband still had a nice tush after all these years. This goes on for half an hour as they climb more than a kilometer. Near the top, their steps felt lighter. This wasn’t their imagination. Gravity was 70% of normal as they reach Lover’s Peak. There was a neat little tram station there, an elevator just below. It was a popular spot but this time it was deserted. At the top they hugged & kissed. Judy said “You smell ike shit”. “I know.” Bob said, their ritual complete. He still had that Han Solo smirk. They stretched, drank water. There was a Coffee machine nearby, they ignored it. Yes, yuo can brew coffee, Even Espresso on Lover’s Peak, so? The stone beneath their feet was made of space concrete poured there 20 years ago, and they were standing on a ledge of a 10 mile expanse of greyish wall. On the other side of that wall was the vacuum of space, a short distance away, the wall for Green Acres, the 500,000 acre Agriculture habitat where all their food is grown, cultured, processed by Bots. There was a tunnel. Bob and Judy walked 10 yards into the Earth Dome, an acrylic hemisphere lounge protruding from the outside of the wall, with a view of Space, the Central Axis above, the Wall of Green Acres and… Earth swung into view. Covered in dirty clouds with streaks of fire as some suitcase-sized ejecta returned home. A muted, angry orange glow emanated from the big rift volcano where Wyoming used to be. Fire & ice. Water and death. “I wonder what will emerge from the ashes 25,000 years from now?”, Judy asked. “Zombies”, Bob said & got a whack on his chest as a reward. Funtime’s over, this weekly run has a grave purpose. They stood next to each other. Judy clapped 3 times and both bowed, steepled fingers before their noses in homage to the dead. Tears flowing out of Judy’s eyes. “Mom, Dad, Anuki, Saito”, for Judy. “Mom, Dad, Kelly, Jim, Robert and Jeremy.” for Bob. Judy & Bob survives, standing together, with a family 5 miles away. They were the lucky ones. They had Trumbull to thank for being here to remember those who couldn’t make it. The Weekly observance complete, they emerged from the tunnel to face the full glory of their habitat, their home, HomePlex. A vast barrel 150 miles long and averaging 10 miles wide, a myriad of color and patterns clinging to the wall, the Plexes where 250,000 people lived. Close at hand, at 3 o’clock was the perfect circle of Lake Geneva, Mother’s lair, their Kyoto homestead a short distance furtherhanging at 5 o’clock. a giant tube floating in the middle, the Central Axis in micro-gravity with zero-g at its exact center. The tube is nicknamed the O-zone, the O standing for zero. A honeycomb pattern laced throughout it were the Roebling Cables, which performed a similar function as the suspension cables on the now extinct Golden Gate Bridge. As the fabled bridge’s cables connected the 2 towers, the Roebling Cable network connected the two end walls. The cables were thick chains of nearly diamond-like nano-bots called Grabs. When the stresses pull a Grab beyond tolerance, it is swapped out with another. The same is true for the Walls and the planks lining the outside of the Habitat, MADE FROM THE SAME ROBUST STUFF. If you listen closely, you could hear SKITTERING. Just a few miles down the tube, over Mendocino was an odd contraption. An enormous silvery cone. The first ever in human history micro-G surf generator, christened by the Dudes as The Gnarl. Multiple spiral channels were etched in the inner surface of the cone to hold water. When the Cone spins, the water coat the channel like ice coats a Luge run and you surf the half-pipe all the way down. It’ll be awesome, if it ever gets finished. “Do SEALS surf?”, Judy asked her ex-SEAL hubby. “SEALS gotta hang 7”. A whack on his arm, “That number if a little inflated, honey”. Further down the Barrel, the desert scar of NoWhere, now Jerusalem. Beyond, loomed the roiling storm clouds of the Kingdom of Sauron- Judy broke in, “That’s Gilead, not Mordor, it’s sunny there. It’s sunny everywhere Bob, 75 degrees”. “How did you know what I was thinking?” “You make me watch 10 hours of Lord of the Rings every year, Honey. Besides, I know you.” Bob was about to argue when he remembered she was of course absolutely right! She was the light of his life! His Queen- Judy said, “Stop sucking up to me, Bob”. Bob snapped, “Stop that!”. Judy cackled. Bob said, “Nick says Gilead will attack in 2 weeks. We may not be doing this for awhile.”. “Or ever again.”, Judy tensed. “Nick seems like a pretty good runner and you like the look of his tush-“, SMACK! “Ouch. Wife, please save some of me for Zeke’s army”. A shove from Judy. “Dammit, Bob, don’t die. I’ve already lost enough!”, she said, tears streaming again. Bob hugged his wife, “Don’t worry baby, I gotta plan.” “That’s what worries me.”

Meanwhile, in new Jerusalem an exasperated Zeke Salvation echoed “Are you shitting me?”. “Mind your language Governor Salvation”, said The AI, ArchAngel. He hated his nom de Guerre. The name, Zeke Salvation was foisted on him by The pompous idiot, Zed Ivory on his Ordination to The curio Guard, the henchmen to the Elder Council. It wasn’t his first new name. He lost count of how many names he held in this zigzag existence. He left a broken home in Butler, Arkansas at 16, purchased a one-way bus ticket to New Orleans. With very limited career options, he discovered a knack for crime and quite liked it. He claimed Nathan Forrest, Josh Beetlejuice, Lucas Perry… Stealing cars. A little Snatch-and-grab. Then, a drug-deal with a jittery crime family Lieutenant ended in a furious firefight with The feared Nemesis gang. Zeke killed 2 gang-members, rescuing his team in The process but losing The drugs. They got The hell out of New Orleans with The Police, Boss Gardenia & The Nemesis on Their heels. Zeke had a talent for big trouble. His original, Christian name was Theodorre Stephen Dallas, a name lost in time as an America that is now an ocean. In Jacksonville, Florida, he and his team parted ways. He met a kindly Preacher of The New Hope Church. Becoming his assistant, Then Deacon, he got an intense education in The New Testament. In return, he helped The Preacher rob The faithful. This, he liked. No drug-deals, just good, god-fearing, honest grift. He became Brother Matthew. Then, They got snared by the dark side of Christianity. A shadowy Cabal of self-declared Children of the Sun, 7 Mountain dominionists, Rapture mystics and messianic mafiosi called The Apostles. They loved humble, healing humanitarian Jesus so much they wanted everybody to get on their knees, swear eternal obedience & Holy Jihad or get a bullet to the head. People who wrote about them, criticized or challenged them, the Demonic Forces, tended to suffer mysterious, fatal accidents, leaving behind scenes of notorious sin. Those were not by the hands of God, but by the hands of a man, God’s Assassin. A mysterious figure who did the bidding of the shadowy Star Apostles, a name they only spoke in a hushed whisper when in complete privacy. High members took an immediate liking to Brother Matthew. The Kindly Preacher vanished, never to be heard from again. Matthew took part in some truly sketchy operations and he rose through the ranks. Then, he met God’s Assassin, Nathan Wade. Nathan was a former Navy SEAL, and he was goddamned good at the art of Death. If The masters need someone terminated, Nathan did it in ingenious ways. It wasn’t enough to merely kill a man, you had to kill his reputation too. So, They find a nosy Congressman hanged in an apartment with kiddie porn displaying on his laptop screen. A teetotaling critic overdoses on heroin. a potential witness with a bullet hole in the head in a locked room in a safe house. Or 2 former members dead from a homosexual suicide pact. Nathan was more than The Reaper, he was The Devil. Nathan took Matthew in as his apprentice and acolyte, teaching him the black art. Matthew bloomed under Nathan’s tutelage. He participated in surveillance, set-ups, scheduling meetings, acting as envoy, cut-out, drop-off. Then, Nathan gave him the kill, a male Journalist, who they left to be found in a cheap motel room in a Girl Bunny furry suit. Fentanyl overdose, the Police said. Matthew made his bones and started disposing the doubtful on his own. Matthew was a natural, and he killed a dozen more people for the Apostles. In all his life, Matthew never got close to anyone. Not with his Mother, He never knew his Father. He had prostitutes, but never felt the exultant vulnerability of love. Then, Nathan came into his life like a flash of lightning. Nathan thrilled him, captured his imagination, his emotion. Matthew loved Nathan as the Father he never had, and very nearly as a man. They were literally a whiskey’s breath away from becoming lovers. Could Matthew have love a man that way? He never found out, because one day, the Apostle Elders ordered him to kill Nathan. Matthew killed God’s Assassin. And It was disturbingly easy. Nathan had his enemies and The FBI was sniffing around. So, The Grand Inquisitor, a man with no name, ordered Matthew to terminate Nathan and take his place. Matthew invited him to his apartment,, served him some fresh Ruby Red Grapefruit juice spiked with Fentanyl. Nathan made sure Matthew had a glass too, They clinked glasses and drank. Nathan died slurring damnation upon the traitor. Matthew had taken his methadone just before Nathan arrived. He called a number on The burner phone, some guys came & took his body away. He didn’t feel remorse, he didn’t feel pride, he felt… nothing. Well, not nothing. He felt power. If he could erase Nathan out of existence, he could wipe Them all out. Then, The Apostles came for him. Soon before They made Their move to install God’s Paradise on Earth, they sent An assassin to blow up Matthew’s car. He wasn’t in it, having told his girlfriend to get in while he took care of some quick chores. She went inside, sat down and closed the door. Then, BOOM! He thought of her once in awhile, but in the end, They didn’t get along anyway. Matthew expected this. He executed an escape planned, all The pieces cashed away. He fled Jacksonville, drove nearly nonstop to Canada and began a new life as Stephen Smith. In Toronto he met Wayne Sherrod, who would eventually become Zed. He had started a strict Church and was planning a Mission to Papua. Stephen joined them and left America for The last time. A few months later, A rogue AI, ArchAngel, hijacked a giant asteroid in orbit, making it fall to Earth. It slammed into Wyoming, uncapped The Yellowstone Caldera, triggering an apocalyptic earthquake that collapsed the American west, unleashed monstrous waves world-wide. Matthew, now Stephen was in Papua when the Big Crash happened. They all heard The impact followed by an erupting Earth all around them. Stephen knew the name, ArchAngel and knew it was the Apostles. The Apostles were holed up in Canada, counting on a few meters of dirt & God’s protection. By the time the Earth settled, it was a tomb of shattered remains. Canada burned for a month., it looked far more like damnation than Paradise. Stephen had no idea it could ever get so cold at sea level in Papua. The long winter had begun for The few million who survived The big crash. He also has no idea how Wayne arranged to have Them go into space. Fortunately, Papua had a SpacePort. Wayne’s group were among The first to leave Earth, leading the Great Diaspora. Space is immense, but habitats were few, far between and cramped. Eventually, they made their way to the HomePlex, as Christian Missionaries from Papua with no connection to the Apostles, God forbid! To avoid uncomfortable questions, Wayne became Zed and Stephen Zeke. Zed threaded a perilous gap between what was known and wasn’t known, and Mother granted them asylum & Sanctuary over the objection of some top people in Kyoto. In addition to his psychopathic soul baggage, Zeke had a Steamer Trunk. Among his clothes, toiletries, Cross and Bible was an old fashioned Globe. Curious but not alarming to the people who inspected the group’s luggage. Inside it was an ornate key-shaped thumb drive and a holo-cube of an AI Zeke stole from the Apostles now buried in Canada and in spirit reunited with their Master. For master-minding the takedown of Boomtown, the grateful Elders of Gilead made Zeke the Military Governor of the Plex NoWhere, renamed Jerusalem, a Protectorate of Gilead. A sweet operation. His grand purpose was to keep revenue flowing into Gilead, run a good Christian community while keeping its vices & Earthly delights alive for paying customers & Gilead’s upper-class. So Zed instructed him. Zeke had other plans. if his scheme worked, he would do away with the Elder Council structure, rebuild Gilead as a Jihadist Army under his Supreme leadership, now that’s fun & prophet. “How in the hell am I going to push tanks through the Mendocino Forest if I cannot mark up the pathways! “The populace of Mendocino has no military, they are peaceful and are not likely to interfere as long as we stay clear of their primary produce.”, ArchAngel said. “We have recent maps & drone footage for you, you can review the Forest in holographic format. Also, we do not want to spur Kyoto into action before we are ready.” “What do you think Trumbull is doing? He & his family are not stupid. We need to strike now before that wily bastard hatches his schemes! “There are other considerations…”, ArchAngel reminded. “Intervention? The other Habitats & Plexes don’t want to be involved! Sovereignty of a bunch of Stoners? Or maybe Zed doesn’t want me to attack now because his gay son is hiding out with his hunky boyfriend in Kyoto and he doesn’t want me to find him? I really don’t care about his son. My plan is to take over everything, Mendocino, Kyoto, Lake Geneva, Gilead. Do you think Zed’s suspicious?”, Zeke asked. “Of course he is”, Archangel replied, but he still believes in the other plan. that you’ll turn Jerusalem into a family-friendly, civilized Christian Wild West theme park and gambling casino, while building up an army to eventually invade HomePlex”. Zeke sighed with relief. “And I don’t want to force Zed’s hands right now. While he’s still alive”. Zeke had a new name in mind, once he takes over Gilead and unleash his faithful in a Ring-wide Jihad, the Prophet Michael. With a Golden Crown and a fiery sword, his ArchAngel AI. “and glory be thy name, the blood will flow and they will burn.”</pt

When a military force is building up across The way and you’re awakening your peaceful people, it is time for subterfuge. One great canard is The Clown Show and The Terribly secret real black op. So it is when Kyoto & Mendocino find Themselves under The gun. Real guns. “Tanks? Tanks?! Are you shitting me?” cried a heavily-strained Combat General, Robert Goodman of The Trumbull family. “Yes, 25 of assorted capabilities.” Mother said in her soothing, husky motherly voice. It was not soothing to Bob. Bob imagined The same kind of voice cheerily announcing The approach of mile-high waves on Earth. Tanks can be bad. Very bad. If used right. Unfortunately, These are not massive Cold War behemoths, but light robots with explosive shells & Catapults. Nimble, in City and Forest, They are bad. “We will need to attack The tanks with Drones.” throwing Parrots at a Dragon combat. Bob knew the answer, but had to ask anyway. “Mother, you can’t make tanks for us, right?” Mother said, “No. I am under concordat oath to only humanely use lethal force on individuals with cause. I cannot make weapons you can use indiscriminately. Also, ArchAngel might notice.” “Mother, if we can’t have tanks, Why does Zeke get to have tanks?” Mother said, “Because ArchAngel does not have those restraints and Gilead is next door to Detroit”. Bob knew that. War is supposed to be dangerous. Tanks just made their war deadly. I wish we could use our Knives for this. The Ginzu Knives were a small group of experienced fighters Kyoto will use for Special Ops. But They will spend most of Their time in The terribly secret, real black ops” portion of The dual-pronged campaign being led by Nicholas Walk-like-The-Wind. Bob Goodman, retired Navy SEAL and the fighting General, got to run The Dog showM. No knives for Bob “A civilian Force”, Bob reminded himself. Neighbors & friends who will be fighting for Their lives to stave off a Fanatic Religious Army’s Tanks. If Nathaniel Greene could defeat Lord Cornwallis, it is on Bob to defeat The likes of Zeke Salvation, right now cranking out conscripts for The glory of The Lord. “We work with what we got. My Kyoto guys, some Cherokee bad-asses, and Ewoks.”, Bob said. “How well do you think ArchAngel knows Kyoto’s layout?”, Bob asked. “ArchAngel has to know the underground forts, but I do not think Zeke Salvation is interested in those. His target is my home.” Mother said. “Yeah. I was kind of hoping they’d go for those hard targets. All keeping Salvation from you are some park benches. How about Mendocino?” “They know it has a forest.”, Mother said un-helpfully. “Everybody knows Mendocino has a forest! What is your assessment of Zeke Salvation’s ability to fight in Mendocino?”, Bob asked, his pulse quickening. “Zeke Salvation built and trained in a flat desert setting.”, Mother said.” Bob smiled. === old When a military force is building up across The way and you’re awakening your peaceful people, it is time for subterfuge. One great canard is The Clown Show and The Terribly secret real black op. So it is when Kyoto & Mendocino find Themselves under The gun. Real guns. “Tanks? Tanks?! Are you shitting me?” cried a heavily-strained Combat General, Bob Goodman of The Trumbull family. “Yes, 25 of assorted capabilities.” Mother said in her soothing, husky motherly voice. It was not soothing to Bob. Bob imagined The same kind of voice cheerily announcing The approach of mile-high waves on Earth. Tanks can be bad. Very bad. If used right. Unfortunately, These are not massive Cold War behemoths, but light robots with explosive shells & Catapults. wether in a City or Forest, They are bad. “We will need to attack The tanks with Drones.” Paper, Rock & Scissor combat. Bob knew the answer, but had to ask. “Mother, you can’t make tanks for us, right?” Mother said, “No. I am under Constitutional oath to only humanely use lethal force on individuals with cause. I cannot make weapons you can use indiscriminately.” “Mother, if we can’t have tanks, Why does Zeke get to have tanks?” Mother said, “Because ArchAngel does not have those restraints and Gilead is next door to Detroit”. Bob knew that. Bob mused, “Zeke is using Tanks for a deep penetration raid. If Kyoto doesn’t resist, Zeke has no reason to destroy Kyoto- No, he’s invading HomePlex and Kyoto is the enemy. He absolutely will destroy Kyoto, then, for good measure, run over the park benches and Trumbull’s statue just to make a point, then, stroll down the road to Lake Geneva-“.” Mother said, “That could buy you time.” “For what?”, Bob snapped back, then apologized. “Sorry, doom makes me grumpy. Kyoto will be our last stand.” Mother said, “We’re not doomed yet.” I wish we could use our Knives for this. The Ginzu Knives were a small group of experienced fighters Kyoto will use for Special Ops. But They will spend most of Their time in The terribly secret, real black ops” portion of The dual-pronged campaign being led by Nicholas Walk-like-The-Wind. Bob Goodman, retired Navy SEAL and the fighting General, got to run The Dog showM. No knives for Bob, only dogs “Civilian Force”, Bob reminded himself. Neighbors & friends who will be fighting for Their lives to stave off a Fanatic Religious Army’s Tanks. If Nathaniel Greene could defeat Lord Cornwallis, it is on Bob to defeat The likes of Zeke Salvation, right now cranking out conscripts for The glory of The Lord. “We work with what we got. My Kyoto guys, some Cherokee bad-asses, and Ewoks.”, Bob said. “How well do you think ArchAngel knows Kyoto’s layout?”, Bob asked. “ArchAngel has to know the underground forts, but I do not think Zeke Salvation is interested in those. His target is my home.” Mother said. “Yeah. I was kind of hoping they’d go for those hard targets. All keeping Salvation from you are some park benches. How about Mendocino?” “They know it has a forest.”, Mother said un-helpfully. “Everybody knows Mendocino has a forest! What is your assessment of Zeke Salvation’s ability to fight in Mendocino?”, Bob asked, his pulse quickening. “Zeke Paradise built and trained in a flat desert setting.”, Mother said.” Bob smiled.

Hear all ye who are faithful to The Living Jesus & God our King, Hallelujah! And tremble ye who fear The wrath of The Righteous! It is so proclaimed that The pestilential filth of NoWhere, Sodom & Gemorrah arisen is now obliterated, and rising from The ashes, The beautiful, pure Ivory towers of Jerusalem, Praise The Lord! Let us bear witness to The inspiring origins of this lessed bounty. It started when The god-fearing Christian souls caught wind of a Satanic plot by Larry Larouche & Keane West to capture Their children & brain-wash Them gay, personally molesting each and every one of Them. Warned that The Satanic, homosexual duo were mobilizing Their personal army, The Cowboys to sweep and terrorize The innocents of The land, one upright Citizen, Ira Pettigrew, arranged a Posse who went into the deepest pits of Keane West’s Casino to arrest them. But by deepest, darkest treachery, when They cracked The vault where all The frightened children were kept slaves, They tripped a booby trap, triggering a terrible explosion & all those tender souls perished. Sent to investigate, a cadre of Gilead’s finest Law Enforcement officials happened upon The scene & organized The courageous resistance that lead to The evil duo’s righteous extermination near The boundary of Mendocino. The proud citizens, free to live decent, Christian lives, petitioned our dear leader, Zed & The Council of Elders for The perpetual protection of our glorious Republic, Gilead, Praise The Living Jesus! Upon recognition from our all-knowing, all-seeing computational Magistrate, ArchAngel, we so appoint our Curio guardian EZeke Salvation as Military Governnor and as we begin The hard work of transition from cesspool of wickedness to a decent, upstanding Community dedicated to The work of God,The Border is closed and shall remain so until furTher notice. Any attempt to intrude will be deemed The enemy & disposed of harshly by our SOTC military authorized to use deadly force. Ye! Shall our Armageddon live on for a thousand years, a million as our children spread The Word of God throughout The Cosmos!

Izzy knew The gig was up. Israel Ivory was The oldest son of Zed Ivory, Founder and Senior Elder of Gilead. Izzy was 18 years of age, inheritor to The Kingdom, so he was raised & educated to be paranoid about such things. Though Gilead looked like a Church and all it’s subjects member of one happy Congregation, it was a Feudal Kingdom, the seat of power more Castle than Cathedral. So, Izzy, marked as a Prince was also a marked man. It did not help that Izzy was gay and his long-time boyfriend, Ishmael Affidavit was not here at The appointed time for a long looked forward night of frolic in the woods. For all The pompous authority that came from being a guy with a Universally-powerful God’s ear, his dad was not an idiot and neither, for that matter, was he. If Izzy was an idiot with this honking big secret life to hide, he wouldn’t be alive now. But come to think of it, he wasn’t sure he’d be alive come midnight. His fear & dread pumped violently, he felt like running. Yeah, running wasn’t such a bad idea. Oh Ishmael, why didn’t we run away when we had the chance. Oh God, please, let him be OK! Izzy was in a hell of a pickle. He knew this double-life couldn’t last, that someday he’d have to make a choice. But he was young, in love and he let the lie lie. Now, some accident, an innocent slip-up changed everything. Time was up, choice was up. He had to flee. To stay was to face mortification, conversion therapy or public execution. His Father would denounce him, he’d wach helplessly as Ishmael suffered and died. So while Izzy and Ishmael lived a dream, they hatched a plan. The Great Escape. Either they flee together, or alone. Izzy loved his Father. He was also terrified of him. Izzy committed the worst crime of all, more grievous than treason or heresy, his forbidden love was all these things. His Father would disown & denounce him, leave him to be tortured or publicly stoned, after he watched helplessly as Ishmael died. If he ran away, his Father would come after him. Only Trumbull can protect him and negotiate for Ishmael. It was the only way out. But he has to give Trumbull something of value first, and he knew just the thing. The first step was to go home. Pack a few items that will insure his survival tomorrow. Home was the Shrine of Isme. It was lavish, even by HomePlex standards, a homage as well as home for his Father. Izzy remembered the hard times. He remembered the long wandering. along with Ishmael, his Mom, his other Mom, and nearly 3,000 others, a wandering tribe, following his Father like the Israelites followed Moses through the desert looking for home. And Zed found a home in this wonderful place. The Shrine was given Zed by vote from the grateful people of Gilead. He ran back up The trail. His enhanced vision let him navigate The brush in The dark. He reached The hidden cave, leading to an emergency exfiltration gate. Instead of continuing on to The passage to his room at The Palatial Shrine to Isme, he took The door to his faTher’s office, praying to a Gay God his father wasn’t on his big comfy leather chair. For this one time, Gay God smiled upon his child, The office was empty. Taking a deep breath, Izzy took The thumb-drive from around his neck & inserted it into The slot in the safe, taking a gold wallet and an ornate skeleton key. The wallet had a billion coins, but it was beer money compared to The other item, the skeleton key. It was The key to The Kingdom & The future Jihad. Now it was his ticket to a continued existence. Izzy knew some alert just went out when he opened the safe. Time was of The essence. He knew The guards will be notified in 10 minutes. Izzy ran for his life, through The gate of Paradise in The lost pines. Izzy wandered through The crowds in Gilead City to The Warehouse. There, he found a packed, manually-operated powered glider. And Ishmael. They clung in desperate, sobbing joy. “I escaped through a window, climbed down a tree!”, Ishmael said after his parents confronted him, saying a classmate reported seeing him kissing Izzy in The corner of a public space. “I’m sorry Izzy, I really messed up. This couldn’t last.” “You’re right, it couldn’t. So now we must run off to stay together. This is The greatest thing that ever happened to me!”, Izzy said, teary-eyed. “Listen dumbass, we’re not There yet, we’re still here!”. Ishmael was The only boy who could call him that & izzy loved him for it. “Ok, let’s go”. Taking off was The easy part. They flew low, dangerously weaving rooftops. Izzy & Ishmael were 2 gay boys, but They were still boys and The great escape was fun. But soon They realized They were on the fly. Nowhere, um, Jerusalem & Mendocino lay between Them & Kyoto. And ArchAngel would be looking for them. The escape took 3 days. They flew by night, recharged Their battery by day. Their drone scanner came alive as They approached Mendocino & They zoomed through dark clouds in a wild zig-zag but soon found Themselves over The forest blackness of Mendocino. They did it. They landed in The central square of Kyoto. The crowd was astonished to see 2 men clad in Gilead attire hugging & kissing each other, so when one of them said “Take me to your leader”, they shook their heads, pointed off to the side, One of the women said, The Trumbull family is in that park over There. Watch out for The blackberry bush. Trumbull’s sentry bot found The boys gorging on Blackberries & giggling like schoolgirls. It’s threat analysis marked Them as “Idiots”. They followed The bot to The back door. Trumbull & Judy were waiting for Them. Izzy identified himself, “Mr. Trumbull, my name is Israel Ivory, son of the Lead Elder, Zed. And this is my best- boyfriend Ishmael. We have fled Gilead and request asylum.”, a solemn speech that would have had more gravitas were it not for The blackberry juice running down his chin. Trumbull settled them into the guest room, leaving them to wash off the grime of 3 days hard escaping and to catch their breaths. Trumbull sent bots to grab The glider & Their possessions. Izzy had The sense of mind to carry The really important item on his person. The Skeleton key. The key to The kingdom. Marla joins in A short while later, there was a knock on the door. Izzy opened it to find Trumbull and Marla, shaking off her drowsiness after Trumbull so rudely awakened her. The young men goggle at her. “What?”, she snapped, “You never seen a trans-woman before?”. Ishmael said, “Ma’am, we’re from Gilead. From The top families. We’re both 18, so… no?”. “Besides, youre dressed all in pink & wearing furry pink bunny slippers.” Trumbell said, “The Boy’s got a point, Marla, You look ADORABLE!”, and she adorably stuck out her tongue in response. Izzy and Ishmael looked at each other, hugged warmly and shared a deep, long kiss. “We made it baby! We’re home!”. It was Trumbull, Judy & Marla’s turn to goggle. Marla held The key. “It is like a thumb drive, but it has separate contact points along its irregular folds. This is The one thing we needed to defeat ArchAngel and as luck has it, The son of Zed Ivory is gay & makes a run for it?” “My dad told me how important the key is, and he told me when I became the Lead Elder, to make sure it was never used.” “But that doesn’t make any sense! Why didn’t your faTher just destroy The key?” Izzy said, “I wondered about it myself, ma’am. I think it was his insurance policy. And now, it’s mine. Nick arrived, and Izzy handed The key to him. Marla said, “By providence, the key you cannot do anything without is now in your hand. Thank your long-dead Chiefs for us.”. Nick took in the visuals of that historic moment. The look on his face was priceless.

The order of battle established, Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind and Marla McCall Trumbull met privately to discuss the back room, the Black Ops portion of the war. “The plan”, Nick said to Marla, “is I lead the Ginzu Knives to ArchANgel’s lair and slip in a key to access its command kernel. So, can you and Mother make a key?” Marla said, “No, it’s impossible. IF such a key exists, we will have to steal it from Zed Ivory’s safe.” Nick said, “My brilliant plan for a Black Op raid kinda needs The key. Um, I may not have thought the whole thing through.”. “Ya think?” retorted Marla.”

The 2nd Council of War included Trumbull’s family, The Kyoto Special Forces the Ginzu Knives, & leading citizens of Mendocino who prefer to call Themselves “The Head Dudes. Jeff, Dooby & the rest of the group looked out of place in a Council of War, but at least they were there. Most of the other Plexes sent their regrets, citing scheduling conflicts, minor emergencies or inclement weather, meaning they did not want to mess with Gilead. The Dudes were more plussed than non-plussed at meeting the new wife, Marla McCall Trumbull. But everybody grew serious when they covered the bad news, and it was very bad. Marla stood before The display in a sharp business dress and after playing The Official Statement of Gilead, ran through The actual events. Concluding that “Nowhere is gone, Gilead expanded and Mother cannot intervene due to an even graver threat we’re about to reveal to you.. Now, any questions?”. When none came, she returned to her chair. The Homeplex founder, Gwynett Trumbull spoke out, “Now that our beautiful & brilliant wife Marla gave us unbelievably bad news, I would like to introduce our new War Chief, Nicholas Walk-like-The-Wind. 2 years ago, when Mother saw signs of impending trouble from Gilead, she suggested we tap Nick as War chief to face the looming threat posed by Zed Ivory and Zeke Salvation. He is deeply intelligent…”, which prompted a snort from Marge Shrudi. Trumbull glared at her. “… as I was saying! Deeply intelligent, free of mono-Theistic Religious doctrine, with a fluid & clever tactical bent – he’s wily as a Monk. He came from a self-determined Cherokee tribe in Sao Paolo. He supplemented his primary education with Tactical combat training and was on track to be tribal leader till I invited him to Kyoto to serve as our War Chief. Then, We all fell in love with Nick so we invited him to join our family. We had to clear that through the tribe, who were thrilled at the prospect of one of their own being War Chief for HomePlex, but not sure about the marriage thing until I threw in a few advanced combat training drones to sweeten the deal. So, Chief?”. Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind took The stage looking every bit a War Chief. He wore a beaded sash, metal chest-plate over his military jumpsuit, and a head-band with an ancient Eagle feather , The Chief emblem of The Cherokee Nation back on Old Earth. It was his ceremonial badge of rank. Standing tall, fierce black eyes staring at his audience, he began his first speech as a Warlord with an “Um.” “Um, thank you all for answering our call. One of the Dudes, Jeff, said, “Like, we don’t wan to make a hassle but we’re not committed yet. Nick replied, “When the Salvation Army is parading through your woods, it may be too late to change your mind. I thank you for being here.” Nick looked at his audience. He squinted at what first appeared to be an empty chair, then recognized a person sitting there. “and I thank you for coming too, brother See-and-not-be-seen. Is anybody else joining our War party?”, See-and-not-be-seen said, “Maybe. Depends on what you have to say”. Nick understood their reluctance. And what he said next wouldn’t exactly fill his audience with confidence. “First, I will ruin your day. You know it doesn’t make sense for Zeke Salvation to invade Mendocino or Kyoto for Weed and Apple Pie. He’s going after Mother.” Loud expletives when the crowd realized this wasn’t just a neighborly dispute. The Santa Clara representative asked, “Why can’t Mother simply shut this whole thing down?” Nick answered, “This is Top Secret, strictly enforced., Gilead has their own AI… ArchAngel.”. Shocked silence. Mother said, “First, I cannot just nuke Gilead. That would be mass murder. I am under a Concordat Oath and the Geneva Convention. Second, ArchAngel has me at a huge disadvantage, I have to run HomePlex and protect you all while we fight, and ArchAngel does not. I cannot defeat ArchAngel by myself, I need your help. Nick said, “There is no denying The threat. There is no denying The news. We are faced with an aggressive military force, a time-honored playbook for overturning Democracies, a wise & patient leadership and an unbelievably dangerous AI, but all hope is not lost. For the following reasons… They are not big. They talk about billions spreading The Gospel to The Stars, but that’s not now. Now, They number about 5,000. 2,000 military, 1,000 militia, 2,000 law enforcement officials & leadership. And of that, only a handful will actually do combat. This is no Armageddon, it’s a brushfire. We are small too, but we are not goin to wage conventional war against an enemy unbound by law and lusting for power We are smarter than They are. We anticipated all this and we know The truth, thanks to Marla setting up a fallback server in a backup crypt only Keane West knew about. They are expecting us to have only Their side of The story and expect us to be cowering & debating surrender now. “Also, like I just said, we know their actual objective. Lake Geneva. They plan on manually dropping some device that will kill Mother. Zeke’s forces will go through Mendocino and Kyoto to get to the lake”. The enemy front is the point of a spear without a spear. A small defensive force is all we need and too many fighters is actually an encumbrance. Kyoto’s militia, led by Robert Goodman is in, we hope some of my Cherokee brothers will sign up too. But we can really use some experienced forest fighters too”, Nick said, looking at the Dudes, who looked behind them hoping to see experienced forest fighters behind them. Nick turned to Robert Goodman and said, “Great! Now, Bob will take your questions. Bob?”. Bob was not pleased.

A year after Mark McCall confirmed Gilead operated a rogue AI, There was a boom in Boomtown. The boom was a bomb in The vault of The Keane West Casino where Mark sat a year before. Someone delivered The bomb to The Vault, laid The package in front of The door, which opened. Robots grabbed The bomb & The door closed. It exploded 5 minutes later. In addition to Casino business, The Vault was The lair of The local AI, The Beast. It vanished. A trillion credits vanished, and so did Keane West & Larry LaRouche’s credentials. When the Beast vaporized, a backup Server went into emergency mode, notifying all officials of a possible terrorist attack. Then it gave the Master Credentials to an AI in Gilead named ArchAngel. One process flared an alarm to SnoopyTech, feeding live surveillance data and data traffic. Beast had 2 Masters, and neither were Larry or Keane. Messages arrived at the comms of certain individuals who had been fed conspiracy theories by anonymous sources claiming to worked for the NoWhere Government, who spread them like wildfire. The messages said something like, Larry & Keane were running a Child Sex slave ring and got caught. They set off a bomb to cover the evidence and were now on the run to Mendocino. More messages identified officials as co-conspirators, some fleeing some still in Boomtown. In the midst of the growing chaos, a visiting Gilead Official, Zeke Salvation organized a posse and went off in pursuit of the evildoers. After he left, the city exploded as people fired upon officials, officials fired back, and others simply took advantage of the melee to gun down their own enemies. Zeke and his posse, his own private band of psychopaths did not have far to go. The caught up with Larry, Keane and their Government en-route to an emergency fortified cave set aside in case of terror attacks or uprising. They were gunned down in cold blood, incriminating evidence planted on their bodies. ArchAngel issued its first official order to secure Boomtown. By some chance, a contingent of Gilead Enforcers were attending a Security Conference nearby. ArchAngel gave them credentials, They assumed command & organized a slaughter to restore order. They presented NoWhere to The Gilead Elder Council The next day, which installed Zeke Salvation as The Military Governor. He immediately ordered more slaughter & executions of The few remaining Nowhere officials. The Elder Council of Gilead declared that NoWhere was gone, that it would be Gilead’s new Protectorate, Jerusalem. Zeke Salvation ordered the borders closed while Jerusalem is cleaned up. He did however, promise to preserve NoWhere’s industries since these are its only economy. The backup server, nicknamed by Mark as Harvey Dent, communicated until ArchAngel queried it, at which point its software self-destructed.

Family Trumbull, Judy, Marge, Bob, Nick,& Mark sat at The table, eating Apple pie. Then, Mark said, “I have an announcement. They all looked at him. Mark took a breath and said, “I want to add a wife to our family. Trumbull was surprised. Mark was The introvert of The group. He became part of Their polyamory soon after They founded Kyoto. “Well, we will need to vote her in. Is she someone we know? Mark said, “Yes, in a way”. Trumbell asked, “Well, who is she?”. Mark said, “Her name is Marla. Judy interrupted, “Well, There is one problem. There’s 6 of us and There is 6 rooms and 2 bathrooms. A 7th member means we’d have to add another room and a new bathroom. You know we can do that, but Gilead is keeping things really busy right now…” Mark took another breath, Then let it out slowly and said, “No, that won’t be a problem. “How is that?”, Judy asked. Mark said, “I am Marla. And I want to be your new wife.” Mark spoke in a torrent, “You all must have noticed every Halloween & Costume party, I always go as a girl – as The Princess, The Stewardess, a Beauty Queen? The Princess, Stewardess & Beauty Queen were The costume, my being a woman was not. For whatever reasons, I am a woman and I can not pretend to be Mark anymore. I ask you now to accept me as Marla, your wife. Judy said, grinning, “Marge and I knew. You gave us glimpses from time to time, placing clues in an artfully sloppy way. Besides, you had undies. We were just waiting for you to tell us”. But why now? “Me too”, said Nick, not in the least surprised. Bob said, “I had no frigging idea.” Everybody laughed. Trumbull said, “Nowhere”. Marla nodded. During the months I worked in NoWhere, I was Mark by day and Marla at night. I put on my dresses and makeup, and go on the town as Marla. I met people, made friends, went out on dates, and had relationships. My feelings were real and I realized, Marla wasn’t my alter ego, Mark was. There’s no going back. I love you all, and I need to love you as who I really am, your wife, Marla. Trumbull said, “To tell you the truth, Marla, I knew too. As you all know me, I tend to see everybody’s true nature. Besides, Marla gave us hints. Body language, small movements. How you asked and danced with your husbands at those parties, the way you guided us by hand”. As a wife would”. Marla couldn’t breathe. “Are you prepared to be our Wife, Marla? Not only in the privacy of this home, but out in public?” Marla said, “Yes, I am aware. I am not… without experience. Husband to you I am not truly, truly I am your wife. I want that more than anything in The world!” Trumbull said, “Well, it is time to introduce us to Marla”. Mark said, “I’ll be back in two shakes of a Lamb’s tail.”. And 20 minutes later, slightly nervous in a dress and heels, was Marla. They all agreed, “Wow! You are a stunner!” They put it to the vote then. Everybody said yest to Marla. She radiated joy. They prepared for a wedding. A month later, with Mother presiding, the Trumbull family announced their vows and introduced their new wife, Marla to the Kyoto community. Marla must’ve danced with everybody. Much food eaten, must wine flowed, much flirting, much drama. A moment of joy under the gathering clouds of impending war.

They sat in a conference room in Lake Geneva, home of Mother. True to its name, Lake Geneva was a small Homeplex subplot dominated by a lake. Mother lived beneath it. The water kept her cool. The Trumbull family sat in a tastefully appointed conference room on the 2nd floor of a simple but elegant Swiss chalet. Floor to ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the lake, sky and massive, rocky wall. They ate Apple pie while discussing the apocalypse. Gwynettt Trumbull said, “Not only is Mark a highly-skilled data security consultant, he is also our spy. We’ve been sending him to Nowhere as the Keane West Casino’s IT Security expert over the last 2 years, but though he did actual, profitable work for the Casino, he was really there to probe for any hacks on their network.” Bob Goodman, ex-Navy SEAL and Trumbull’s earliest co-husband, chimed in, “Gilead? Zeke Salvation? The Jihad?” Trumbull nodded gravely. “We believe Salvation is staging a takeover of Nowhere-“ “And when Nowhere goes, so goes Mendocino, Kyoto, the Lake… and Mother?” Bob added. Trumbull nodded again. Bob asked, “If we know what Gilead & Zeke Salvation is up to, Mother can just arrest them and place gilead in lockdown. End of the danger, we all eat pie!” Mother said, “We have a problem. Trumbull?” What Trumbull said made everybody stop eating Pie. “Mark discovered NoWhere’s network has been tampered by a rogue AI. And Mother didn’t know about it till Mark sent the message.” Bob said, “ArchAngel. Trumbull nodded. Mark McCall, former NSA Computer Whiz, sometimes spy and sometimes someone else, de-crypted The message to show The data he got from Nowhere. “The variables are short & obscure, to make it harder for a hacker to understand. Each variable means something different when The Security AI switches modes, and The results are sent to its corresponding script to be translated into real observations & actionable items. We hackers call this The Obscurata Pattern. It is simple, and effective even in this day & age”. Next to it, he put up The data from the backup server. They just looked like tables with gibberish & numbers. But both were nearly identical except for 1 value, which was a 1.456376 instead of -0.324563. “Again, this is gibberish to The eye, but let me show you The analysis I got from The AI when I ran this rule…”, and it was immediately clear to everybody. The AI placed a hold on Mark’s dummy message, But the backup server said, “Pass, trusted.”. Mark Then showed The dummy message he used to trigger The discrepancy… it was tagged with a Keane West private wallet and a Gilead wallet. And yes, Mother didn’t catch it. As far as I know, only Mother, or an AI like Mother could penetrate this deep without triggering many levels of alarms. And we know Mother didn’t do this. And, I saw this same kind of corruption with NASA’s Asteroid monitoring network. And you know what happened shortly that? Just… after I became your- husband. Judy Miyamoto, last of the Earth’s great dowagers, paled, “A clone of The AI that killed billions on old Earth.” My parents, my brother, sister-in-law and little Tara … bob said, “I warned Mother giving Ivory’s fanatics asylum was just begging for a Jihad. She didn’t listen-“ “Are you saying I told you so, Bob?”, Mother said as softly as a summer’s rain. “I’m an AI that controls your air, grow your food. Make it rain. All while observing the Concordat of Human Destiny, the Geneva convention and an Ark-load of Human Rights provisions. I’m your Mother, I love you, but you kids are all grown-ups and you need to fix this problem yourselves. I can only intervene when my own life is threatened. Not to mention that now we have an adversary that is my equal and we need to keep up the illusion we don’t know it’s there.” Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind, Nick for short, the family’s newest co-husband, said, “We’re now in a Cold War. Cloak-and-dagger stuff. Gilead is going to take over Nowhere and we can’t prevent it without tipping ArchAngel off.” Marge Shrudi, cook & Apple Pie goddess, asked “What happens if Archangel finds out?” Nick said, “We lose our only advantage, and if we do that, it’s a crap-shoot who’ll win. So, we are going to have to be surprised when Gilead turns over Nowhere. After Gilead, we’ll have a window before Zeke’s Army comes calling on Mendocino and then, Kyoto. too little time if we’re unprepared, but if we start those preparations in secret now…” Trumbull said, “We continue sleeping like The lamb while we Wolf up. Knowing The enemy’s next step is half The battle. Judy clapped her hand, “Well, on that happy note, let’s eat!”

Mark McCall sat in a vault in the middle of NoWhere. The sunlight was warm, piped in by optical fiber but The air dry & chilly. He wore a sweater for this kind of work. Outside is Boomtown which looks older than it really was, a hot, dusty Old West Gold-rush town that only ever existed in silent movies & dime novels. Fashioned after a traditional casino money room, the Vault was a soulless cinder-block bunker 2 floors beneath the Keane West Casino. “no data, No date.”, Mark, updating the timeless mantra of working people everywhere. There were no coins, dollar bills, long obsolete. Here, The money flowed into The Keane West Casino as data. His only companion was a frozen cube containing NoWhere’s AI, nicknamed The Beast. Mark was a top-ranked Security Consultant on HomePlex, hired from Earth’s NSA by Trumbull, now his co-husband in a polyamory. He was working for Trumbull now, through one of his many shell companies, SnoopyTech. He was teaching The AI how to conduct security audits & probing for vulnerabilities. He could’ve done this from a cozy coffee shop, but he didn’t mind the chilly, cinder-blocked room. He was paid very well, The staff were nice to him. and at The end of The day, he spent time with Marla. They were having The time of ther lives in anything goes Nowhere. “Hmm, that’s weird.”, Mark thought, looking at some test results from the Backup Server. And it was The sort of thing he was actually looking for. An AI protocol was The same as he left it last year, but The results were different. The AI was interpreting The rules differently, and it wasn’t him. The real reason he was in this chilly room next to the AI, he was hunting a monster, a cyber beast lurking in the shadows. He just got a nibble. He was here on orders from Mother. And he can’t fix the problem, report it to Keane West or intervene in any way. Mother orders. Mark copied The data, and, using a custom script, had it encrypted to look like an email to Judy about an upcoming dinner party. Hi Judy, The contract is going well here in The middle of Nowhere. I miss you, Trumbull, Marge, Bob & Nick and will be home in 2 weeks. I am SO looking forward to The Barbie. Think you can get some extra meat? I’m thinking of bringing a guest to join The party. Love, The family IT guy. Mark sends emails while at work. Normally, this would be against some rules, but he was working Nowhere. So, The monitoring AI marked it as a personal message & left The thing fly. Mission accomplished, Mark said, looks like Marla & Me will be having a special celebration tonight. But The discrepancy spoke of big trouble ahead. And he had some important business to conduct before storm clouds roll in.

Marge removed The Apple pies from The oven to cool. She always made more pan-fried apple filling than pies. She put Them in 2 containers, one for The fridge & one for her. She grabbed a couple of spoons and decided to sit by The stream. The Akira stream started a few miles away at Mount Fuji and ranon for a few miles more to Lake Niitake. Here at The Trumbull homestead it ran through a nice, shady grove of trees. It was a mild day, 22 degrees Centigrade, courtesy of Mother who promised an entertaining thunderstorm in 3 days. Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind was sitting on a rock called “The Stone Throne”, dipping his feet in The cool water. Nick was a new addition to Their family, endorsed by Trumbull a month ago. He said he was a Cherokee & his long dark hair, dark eyes, pronounced cheekbones & tan made him look like a Cherokee warrior. In a floral Hawai’in shirt and shorts. Marge sat next to him, popped a lid & offered him a spoon. They both ate apple pie apples silently. Then she asked, “Do you hear voices of ancient chiefs in The water?” Nick smiles and said, “No, I just like The sound of running water. my ancestor’s opinions would not improve on it.” Marge asked, “Do The Gods whisper in The trees when The wind blows?” Nick said, “If They do, I am not privy to Their conversation.” Marge said, “You don’t sound like a Cherokee much.” Nick said, “What should a Cherokee sound like?” Marge, a little flustered, said, “Well, like Wes Studi, for starters.” Nick said, “I’m glad you didn’t say Tonto,, Kemo Sabe. Jay Silverheels was a Canadian Mohawk but his real name was Harold Smith. I liked Wes, and yes, he was Cherokee, but honestly? I’m way sexier.” Marge rolled her eyes and said, “You’re awfully talkative for a Cherokee. Aren’t Cherokee Warriors supposed to be stealthy? I could hear your flip-flops from inside the kitchen!” Nick said, “You’re The one doing all The talking, compared to you I’m just one of those trees whispering in The wind. You watch too many videos, you have pre-conceived notions about me.” Marge asked, “Well, as long as we’re talking about it, how are you a Cherokee, Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind?” Nick answered, “By birth & by blood, I am Cherokee. My legacy, my ancestors are a fact carved in stone, who They were I am now, but The future will determine who I become.” Marge decided he’ll make a fine addition to The family. They ate more apples in silence. Marge asked, “What are you thinking about?” Nick said, “I’m thinking of 2 things… first, I am very worried about Gilead conquering its neighbors.” Marge said, “Everybody’s worried about Gilead, but not everybody has a plan. Do you have a plan, Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind?” Nick said, “Working on it.” Marge asked, ‘What’s The second thing?”. Nick said, “I’m wondering what your Apple pie will taste like.” Marge said, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Marge Shrudi removed The Apple pies from The oven to cool. She always made more pan-fried apple filling than pies. She put Them in 2 containers, one for The fridge & one for her. She grabbed a couple of spoons and decided to sit by The stream. The Akira stream started a few miles away at Mount Fuji and ranon for a few miles more to Lake Niitake. Here at The Trumbull homestead it ran through a nice, shady grove of trees. It was a mild day, 22 degrees Centigrade, courtesy of Mother who promised an entertaining thunderstorm in 3 days. Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind was sitting on a rock called “The Stone Throne”, dipping his feet in The cool water. Nick was a new addition to Their family, endorsed by Trumbull a month ago. He said he was a Cherokee & his long dark hair, dark eyes, pronounced cheekbones & tan made him look like a Cherokee warrior. In a floral Hawai’in shirt and shorts. Marge sat next to him, popped a lid & offered him a spoon. They both ate apple pie apples silently. Then she asked, “Do you hear voices of ancient chiefs in The water?” Nick smiles and said, “No, I just like The sound of running water. my ancestor’s opinions would not improve on it.” Marge asked, “Do The Gods whisper in The trees when The wind blows?” Nick said, “If They do, I am not privy to Their conversation.” Marge said, “You don’t sound like a Cherokee much.” Nick said, “What should a Cherokee sound like?” Marge, a little flustered, said, “Well, like Wes Studi, for starters.” Nick said, “I’m glad you didn’t say Tonto,, Kemo Sabe. Jay Silverheels was a Canadian Mohawk but his real name was Harold Smith. I liked Wes, and yes, he was Cherokee, but honestly? I’m way sexier.” Marge rolled her eyes and said, “You’re awfully talkative for a Cherokee. Aren’t Cherokee Warriors supposed to be stealthy? I could hear your flip-flops from inside the kitchen!” Nick said, “You’re The one doing all The talking, compared to you I’m just one of those trees whispering in The wind. You watch too many videos, you have pre-conceived notions about me.” Marge asked, “Well, as long as we’re talking about it, how are you a Cherokee, Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind?” Nick answered, “By birth & by blood, I am Cherokee. My legacy, my ancestors are a fact carved in stone, who They were I am now, but The future will determine who I become.” Marge decided he’ll make a fine addition to The family. They ate more apples in silence. Marge asked, “What are you thinking about?” Nick said, “I’m thinking of 2 things… first, I am very worried about Gilead conquering its neighbors.” Marge said, “Everybody’s worried about Gilead, but not everybody has a plan. Do you have a plan, Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind?” Nick said, “Working on it.” Marge asked, ‘What’s The second thing?”. Nick said, “I’m wondering what your Apple pie will taste like.” Marge said, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Marge Shrudi removed The Apple pies from The oven to cool. She always made more pan-fried apple filling than pies. She put Them in 2 containers, one for The fridge & one for her. She grabbed a couple of spoons and decided to sit by The stream. The Akira stream started a few miles away at Mount Fuji and ranon for a few miles more to Lake Niitake. Here at The Trumbull homestead it ran through a nice, shady grove of trees. It was a mild day, 22 degrees Centigrade, courtesy of Mother who promised an entertaining thunderstorm in 3 days. Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind was sitting on a rock called “The Stone Throne”, dipping his feet in The cool water. Nick was a new addition to Their family, endorsed by Trumbull a month ago. He said he was a Cherokee & his long dark hair, dark eyes, pronounced cheekbones & tan made him look like a Cherokee warrior. In a floral Hawai’in shirt and shorts. Marge sat next to him, popped a lid & offered him a spoon. They both ate apple pie apples silently. Then she asked, “Do you hear voices of ancient chiefs in The water?” Nick smiles and said, “No, I just like The sound of running water. my ancestor’s opinions would not improve on it.” Marge asked, “Do The Gods whisper in The trees when The wind blows?” Nick said, “If They do, I am not privy to Their conversation.” Marge said, “You don’t sound like a Cherokee much.” Nick said, “What should a Cherokee sound like?” Marge, a little flustered, said, “Well, like Wes Studi, for starters.” Nick said, “I’m glad you didn’t say Tonto,, Kemo Sabe. Jay Silverheels was a Canadian Mohawk but his real name was Harold Smith. I liked Wes, and yes, he was Cherokee, but honestly? I’m way sexier.” Marge rolled her eyes and said, “You’re awfully talkative for a Cherokee. Aren’t Cherokee Warriors supposed to be stealthy? I could hear your flip-flops from inside the kitchen!” Nick said, “You’re The one doing all The talking, compared to you I’m just one of those trees whispering in The wind. You watch too many videos, you have pre-conceived notions about me.” Marge asked, “Well, as long as we’re talking about it, how are you a Cherokee, Nicholas Walk-like-The-wind?” Nick answered, “By birth & by blood, I am Cherokee. My legacy, my ancestors are a fact carved in stone, who They were I am now, but The future will determine who I become.” Marge decided he’ll make a fine addition to The family. They ate more apples in silence. Marge asked, “What are you thinking about?” Nick said, “I’m thinking of 2 things… first, I am very worried about Gilead conquering its neighbors.” Marge said, “Everybody’s worried about Gilead, but not everybody has a plan. Do you have a plan, Nicholas Walk-like-the-Wind?” Nick said, “Working on it.” Marge asked, ‘What’s The second thing?”. Nick said, “I’m wondering what your Apple pie will taste like.” Marge said, “You’ll find out soon enough.”