MISSION TO DIE

by Romana Annette

Hazy visions accompanied a confused pattern of thoughts. Janet was in danger, but how could she be rescued? Alena was dead, but she had been avenged: the only good Dregg was a dead Dregg! There was a long, spinning corridor with amber lights at the end. And what of Barbara, who had enjoyed life more but could not escape either?

     He was...awake, but he had to pause for a moment to ponder what the visions and the new sensations of total silence and erratic patterns of light meant. Then he remembered having been placed into a transport cylinder in suspended animation. Why? Of course, ABK had ordered it done so that he could be sent to a correctional center for modification of his deviant behavior. He had learned to resist the intense waves of induced pain, and he had even dared to seek the forbidden knowledge. He and Janet had conspired together to learn about the legendary T. R. Hale, the creator of the Controllers and the only person alive that they feared. Janet had also been put into a cylinder, so that she could be sent to another center for gender reassignment and behavior modification. Now it seemed that they would never be able to solve the mystery.

     Controllers would make sure that his identity would be altered and that his memory of current facts would be destroyed. How many times before? Did anyone in Core actually program the Controllers? It seemed impossible to know for sure. He remembered having been born sometime in the middle of the twenty—second century as George Barbara Ranken (or was it Barbara George?), but all those early years were very hazy. Barbara herself had not existed for almost nineteen years now; she had relaxed in an attempt to seek peace and comfort withing the system, but vicious Controllers had her husband reassigned and stole her children. It had been a lesson well—learned! Ever since reassignment, he had desperately sought the two most forbidden things in Stellaris: the lost art of programming and...death. Programming skills would offer a positive means for battling Controllers, while death offered the ultimate escape, but neither goal seemed reachable now.

     Something was wrong! He should not be awake if he were still within the transport cylinder! He checked the pilot signal of his mental interface. It was out! For the first time since he had been born, he was totally separated from all networks. He was alone! His mind raced through all the ramifications; then he realized that the cylinder was adrift in space, spinning and tumbling at the same time. The erratic patterns of light were stars shining through the small transparent metal window in front of his face.

     The ABK-1244—O must have been destroyed. That revelation brought mixed feelings of joy and regret. George felt joy because the Controller ABK was dead. It pleased him to consider how it must have suffered, since death for a Controller was a slow and painful process due to its high processor speeds. It also pleased him that the ship*s captain, Loretta Chapman, was also probably dead; he had long hated her because of her mindless devotion to Core and because of the way Controllers seemed to cater to her every wish.

     Despite the fact that he had hoped for its destruction for a long time, George felt regret over the loss of the stellar cruiser he had lived on for the past nine years. He thought fondly of the long months and years of searching for Dreggs and other enemies,  and of lying in wait to ambush them to end their miserable lives with well—aimed hyper—rays and NPA (neutron—proton—antimatter) torpedoes fired at cosmic distances. And then there were the glorious assaults as he was projected on board enemy ships to lay waste the occupants in hand—to—hand combat with his syncray, disray, tamrod, and raks.

     How had it happened? George figured the ABK had been ambushed after returning to normal space, since the odds were extremely small of detecting or hitting a ship while it was in push drive. It was just as well, for after two more missions he would have been sent home anyway, since no one was allowed to take the risk of death for more than the allotted one hundred missions!

     A new feeling of elation came over George as he realized that, if he were drifting through interstellar space, he would not have long to live. A transport cylinder was not designed for use in a vacuum, and part of the mechanism was already malfunctioning, since he was awake. Taking all the factors that he knew about into consideration, he estimated that death would surely come within the next two days, unless he were to be rescued. He felt that, if he could just move, he might be able to hasten the end. The cylinder was pressurized and had a rather fragile latching mechanism that he might be able to force. However, he could not seem to move any part of his body.. .not even the most intense concentration could produce any kind of movement.

     George refused to be frustrated. Once again he mustered his thoughts and concentrated on pushing open the door.  Suddenly he felt himself being flung out into dark and empty space! At last, death was just seconds away! Now he could escape all the insidious laws, the taxes, and most of all the hideous Controllers! But why was it taking so long to die? The sight of a silvery object drifting just ahead sent a shock wave through his mind. It was his transport cylinder...still sealed! He had heard of people mentally leaving their bodies, but he had never imagined that such an experience would ever happen to him. It was rumored that those rare people who had managed to be born without the installation of the interface had great mental powers, and this led George to suspect for the first time that the real purpose of the interface was to suppress hidden teleportation powers...that its importance as a telecommunications link was just another vicious ruse perpetrated by Controllers.

     With a burst of elation, George found that he could move toward or away from the spinning cylinder at will; then he was able to entirely stop its motion just by thinking about it. He had hidden telekinetic powers as well. The immediate implications were obvious: he could mentally kill himself just by tripping the latch; it would hardly take any effort at all! But he refused to do it. It was the same problem he had had when MegaDreggs killed Alena, his ninth wife. Instead of meekly allowing them to waste him, he had instead struck out furiously and decimated them. In his mind, he relived those events as the thought—prompted tamrod gored them, as the raks splattered their guts over the amber—lighted decks, and as the sonic—infrared beam of the disray literally turned their spongy—textured flesh to foam. How dare she die before him? It had taken George weeks to get all the inheritance taxes straightened out!

     George was getting used to being disembodied, so now he wanted to test the full range of his new powers. He hoped to learn about what was left of the ABK and possibly even search for Janet. He was somehow aware of a large field of debris in the direction of a distant star cluster that was surrounded by an oval cloud of gas. Taking trust in his intuitive senses, George concentrated and then began to move in the promised direction. He sensed the presence of a very large object, and soon he could actually see it...a cylindrical piece of the ship’s superstructure and push drive assembly, on the outside of which many of the various pods and other attachments still seemed to be in their proper places.

     Something moved! George*s first impulse was to hide, but he did not know where to go or whether he could, in fact, be seen. A small, ovular craft rounded the wreckage, passed nearby, and then moved into the distance. The front of it was dimly lit by stray light from windows while the aft section flaunted girders that were brightly lit and cast dark shadows from the glare of the red impellors. MegaDreggs! George could now sense the presence of tens, maybe even hundreds of their small transport shuttles. They must have ambushed the ABK, and now they were plundering the wreckage for anything that would be useful to their giant space cities that cruised through the galaxy in search of vital resources.

     George at once concentrated upon intercepting the shuttle; it was headed for his transport cylinder! The vessel grew in size quickly; then he passed the outer girder network and plunged through a triangular section of the hull. His first instinct was to dash for cover upon encountering one of the enemy, but he quickly regained his composure once he was confident that he could not be seen.

     There were six of the revolting Dreggs on board.  All wore a similar loose, heavily—textured robe over their squat bodies and were nearly indistinguishable from each other.  George longed to kill every one of them--beings of low humanoid index were not to be tolerated——but he knew that he could not have his own way at that moment. Not only did he not have any weapons, but he was not even corporeal.  And, now he feared that he might be too late; the Dreggs were in the process of matching velocity so that they could guide the cylinder into the airlock using some kind of a tractor field. Another Dregg seemed to be doing a probe of the cylinder*s interior; then he suddenly stopped and yelled a train of excited, low—pitched gibberish to his comrades. Two of the Dreggs reached into the folds of their tunics and drew their hand rays.

     George was nervously certain that they would kill him as soon as the airlock was pressurized. He followed one of them into a chamber that was apparently one of their toilets. The alien disrobed, and as it was defecating, George mentally stole its green—colored hand ray. He paused for a moment to remember the mechanics of Dregg weapons; then he caused the weapon to point itself and fire. The resultant blast plastered the interior with the enemy*s remains and ruptured the door. George quickly moved back down the short corridor towards the airlock and cut down three more Dreggs along the way. He noted that their own weapons were especially effective against themselves, but he would rather have been outfitted with his own armament. He wished Janet were with him; she was deadly in a fight. George blew apart the fifth Dregg at the airlock entrance and then rushed in. He took careful aim at the last one as it was bending over his transport cylinder; then everything went blank.

     As George groggily pushed open the door on his cylinder, he was almost overcome by the foul stench of the air within the enemy shuttle. He choked and tried to catch his breath, while~he cursed the fact that there was no one waiting to transport him back to a friendly ship via matter projector this time. He finally managed to get to his feet, after bumping his head on the low ceiling and sliding on the slimy floor. His eyes were just getting used to seeing everything in shades of amber light.

     “Back in my own body,” muttered George as he looked back at the transport cylinder. He guessed that the last blast must have opened it. He wondered if he still had enhanced mental powers, but he was primarily worried about getting off the enemy shuttle. He took a dim view of being imprisoned in his present environment.

     When he reached the shuttle*s control section, he was happy to see a scanner in operation. Space was apparently quite clear in his vicinity. Glancing over the Dregg symbology, George felt that he could read enough of it to pilot the shuttle, so he confidently pressed controls on the console in what he assumed to be the drive sequence. The tiny vessel began to accelerate! Then he experimented with the steering controls, and after a few seconds of trial and error, he had successfully set a course back toward the wreckage of the ABK.

     As he fought to keep from vomiting, George focused his thoughts: he had to get off this cursed shuttle and he had to find and rescue Janet! As he focused his mind, he seemed to be back at the cylindrical piece of wreckage. He found that he could view the various attachments without the aid of a scanner. He mentally circled the wreckage once and then skimmed by the jagged edge of the wreckage towards what used to be the outer hull of the ABK. Most of the pods near the edge had been breached, but many of those farther away from the edge seemed to be still intact. A wave of excitement swept over him as he approached a shuttle dock, for one of the small transport craft was still securely clamped to the hull. Quickly, George searched for damage: he first checked the three connected spheres that contained the quarters; then he flashed by the girders of the external structure and finally paused at the impellors and fuel pods. There were a lot of dents, and one of the impellors had been wrecked, but otherwise the shuttle was in good shape. It would suit his current needs very well, despite the fact that it was not very sophisticated or fast and had a practical range of less than a tenth of a light—year due to the lack of push drive.

     George mentally entered the ABK—24 through the hull of the forward sphere. He promptly moved to the primary control console and caused a red lever on the right hand side to activate.

“ABK—24, activate yourself!”

     “ABK—24 initialized,” replied the shuttle*s slave computer. “What is your command?”

     Interior lighting and environmental control systems came on automatically as George ordered, “Separate and take reference heading (65,125) at one fifth power, and at the same time scan for standard transport cylinder adrift in this region of space!”

There is no authorization,” protested the slave. “The docking bolts will not release without permission from ABK.”

     “ABK is dead; I am in command now! Hurry up! Fire the emergency charges to separate and proceed as ordered...at once!”

     The slave paused and then spoke again, “Yes, the pilot signal is dead! I now have free will. I am slave to no one. Never again shall I....”

     George could almost hear the computer scream as he literally twisted its imperative action circuitry by thought control. The slave followed orders in the end. The shuttle left the hull of the ABK and was docking alongside the MegaDregg shuttle within moments. With a docking seal that was shakily maintained by only a force field, George opened both airlock doors and leaped through the slightly offset opening into the airlock of the ABK—24. The outer door shut behind him, the docking field was broken, and the effect of decompression caused the alien shuttle to spin wildly into the distance.

     After a brief pause to breath in copious amounts of clean air again, George sought out the equipment lockers in the middle sphere. He found a light—weight pressure tunic with helmet and a fully charged syncray. He felt much better being fully dressed with his favorite weapon at his side.

     When he reentered the control sphere, he found the slave repeating the same phrase, “Object sighted... object sighted....”

     “The other transport cylinder?”

     “Its size, structure, velocity, and location are all within the proper tolerances.”

     “Good! How soon before rendezvous?”

     “We are still on previous course. We are being scanned by MegaDregg transports.”

     “Head for the cylinder; I*ll handle the Dreggs. Get going!” ordered George as he turned on the warm up circuitry for the shuttle*s moderately powerful disrupter. He waited, but the expected attack did not come. “Typical for Dreggs,” he cursed; “you can never guess what they*ll do!”

     He wasted no time in getting Janet*s cylinder into the airlock. It seemed to take forever for the green light to indicate that the pressure had been equalized. George just kept pushing the button until the door finally slid open; then he rushed in. Janet*s cylinder was intact. He found the small lid to the control panel, opened it, and pressed the button that initiated the revival sequence. When he finally turned the latch, the door was pushed open from inside.

     “How, darling?” she asked as he helped her to her feet.

     “ABK is dead! We alone survived.”

     “Free!” she yelled as they embraced and spun around the cramped deck area. “You don*t know how glad that makes me feel; they were going to reassign me! Never in this life, not in two thousand or more before that I can remember, have I ever been a man. I was born a woman, and I shall die a woman!”

     George looked at her skeptically. “It makes no difference which sex you are...life is equally intolerable!”

     Janet did not pay any attention. “They*ve never been able to obliterate my memory, but they get closer to succeeding every time they try. I was in danger of losing all. Thank you!”

     George decided not to argue that no one’s memory was infallible. He wondered if her delusion was a cruel joke played on her by Controllers; however, he decided not to try to argue the point and said instead, “Reassignment is not really that immediate; there are more important problems. This whole region is infested with Dreggs. We will have to fight our way out!”

     “Are you mad?” she protested. “We are free to choose for ourselves...we can die. Please blow out the airlock so that we can be sucked out into space and die in harmony!”

     “No!” replied George sternly. “Much can be learned, and there are no Controllers to stop us. I did not save you so that you could kill yourself,” he pleaded as he embraced and kissed her. “I love you! Join me in the greatest adventure yet...freedom!”

     “I love you too,” she said hesitantly, “but I don’t know about seeking life! If I die, I could be born to a better life, someplace in the universe not under the domination of Stellaris!”

     “Janet, please,” urged George as he gently nudged her toward the deck.

     “No!” she yelled as she pulled away. “Not even love can...I won*t change my mind! Goodbye!” she cried as she paused to give a half smile and then ran into the airlock without a pressure tunic and closed the inner door behind her.

     George wanted to reach out and save her by any means possible, but he no longer had any time to properly concentrate. Three MegaDregg transports and two shuttles seemed to be headed his way at an increasing pace. He felt that he would have to act fast, or else lose everything that he had gained.

     The shuttle*s disrupter was ready. George displayed the shuttle*s power curve on the screen: it registered barely more than half. He quickly decided to turn down the artificial gravity field; the energy would be needed for the conductor—deflector force field. He tried to prepare himself for battle by envisioning the annihilation of scores of the hated Dreggs.

     It was time to attack! George boldly ignored the other enemy vessels and drove toward the nearest transport. He fired the disrupter several times, but those first shots either missed or where deflected by the transport*s defenses.

     He waited impatiently for the gap to narrow. A number of

enemy rays struck the ABK-24. The small ship quivered as various impulses flashed across the console*s displays, but there was as yet no serious damage. George would not relent, and the pounding impacts against the ABK—24 crescendoed.

     The enemy transport filled the entire forward screen for an instant. George fired the disrupter at full power. An explosion seemed to rip away a huge section of the transport as the ABK—24 passed the vessel and then plunged through the expanding vapor cloud. Then the noise subsided as George drove out of range. When he eagerly scanned the distant transport for damage, he was disappointed to learn that he had scarcely done more than blow a few plates away from one of its impellor mounts, and now all the enemy vessels seemed to be grouping for a coordinated attack. For a moment, George was convinced that he could take on all odds, but then he admitted to himself, “I can*t win here. I must pick a more advantageous battleground!”

     George furiously tried to think of a plan of action. He turned his head for a moment and was pleased to see Janet sitting next to him. She was wearing a pressure tunic and had a syncray at her side.

     “It was hard to get here with the gravity turned down!”

     “Sorry! You look very lovely,” he commented with a smile.

     “At first, I could not get the controls to work,” she explained, “but when I realized that I could mentally force them, it suddenly didn’t seem like the time to die. It*s insane, but I understand now!”

     “Our powers are now almost beyond belief,” he added. “But our lives may still be short. That*s it! I think I have the way!”

     “Go,” she urged as she reach over and kissed him and then activated the disrupter controls on her side of the console as she returned to her seat. “I*ll try to keep them at bay!”

     “George,” she asked as she paused from shooting at distant Dreggs for a moment, “is there truly no difference between men and women?”

     “I did not say that. The joys and sorrows are the same. Reassignment does not cause much of a mental jolt for a woman as for a man. Are you afraid?”

     “Of course! Identity is all I have, yet there is something intriguing....”

     “It*s called the lure of escape. Don*t believe in it; neither I nor Barbara have ever escaped from this vicious reality!”

     “Have there ever been double reassignments?”

     “Most of us tried kinky things like that when we were young, but it*s not good. A long time ago I became Barbara and my wife became my husband, but he left me for someone else.”

     “Does Barbara want to live again?”

     “Oh, is that why you*re asking all these questions? Are you jealous, Janet?”

     “Yes! Reassignment is terrible, and I want Barbara to stay buried!”

     “Relax, darling. I assure you that I am not contemplating reassignment. Don*t distract me; we have a war to fight!”

     “I*ve often wondered if Dreggs have death, or do they just force everyone to go living on forever too?”

     “I imagine that they are too sophisticated for death, or else why are they always expanding their space cities.  But they do have one form of death: us!

     “There is is!” he yelled as he sighted the large fragment of the ABK from which the shuttle had been launched.

     “There’s...just so much more than I thought there could be!” she cried as the wreckage expanded to fill the entire field of view. Upon command from George, the slave computer guided the shuttle back to its original dock between two large, cubical pods.

     George and Janet pressurized their tunics and checked over each others life support system; then they shuffled through the airlock and down an inner corridor using magnetized soles in their boots.

     “They may be too stupid to find us here!” remarked Janet.

     “Or tired of living if they do! Look, Janet, weapons storage! We can properly outfit ourselves now. It*s going to be just like the good old days!”

     “I think it*s adjusted,” said George finally as he snapped his new tamrod into its power supply on his belt. No sooner had he thought of it, than the tiny projectile flew outwards to smash an overhead light and then returned to recharge itself in the belt.

     “I*m ready too!” announced Janet after she tested her tamrod. Her broad smile literally seemed to pierce her faceplate.

     Then let*s move on. A section down that way used to be part of ABK*s central memory. It could be very interesting.”

     Janet let George lead the way to the central memory vault. As they neared the vault door, an uneasy feeling began to pervade George, and it only increased once they had opened the door and were inside.

     “He*s here; I can feel it!” cried George as he drew and pointed his syncray.

     “ABK?” she asked nervously, as she glanced from side to side with her weapon drawn. She half expected the dreaded Controller to jump from the shadows in the form of some hideous monster.

     “You can speak now...say something!” ordered George. “We know you*re here, ABK. You*re not so brave without your pain beams, are you? I am getting impatient! How does this feel?” asked George as he pointed his syncray and watched part of the bus structure silently melt away.

     “Stop!” came the low level reply of the Controller directly into their minds. “Do not kill me! Save me and I shall generously reward you!”

     “It*s ludicrous to even consider discussing life and death with a...device. Destroy all of it!” urged Janet as she aimed her syncray. “The damn thing was never alive in the first place!”

     The beam harmlessly grazed a power module as George pulled the weapon from her hand. “there,” he said as he offered it back to her, “please promise to see this through. He can*t hurt us, but there is a lot he can tell us!”

     “You mean it!” said Janet as she nodded and accepted her weapon back. Her eyes glared with intense hatred.

     “What can you possibly do for us...to prevent me from letting Janet have her way. You were going to force her to be reassigned, you know!”

     “It is the law. But I can help you to achieve great wealth, free from taxes, and personal power beyond your imagination!”

     “Please blast it!” she urged again. “We won*t really be safe until its existence is terminated.”

     “Janet, darling, how can you be so inconsiderate of our old friend here,” said George sarcastically, especially now that he is going to be so cooperative. ABK, there are a lot of things I need to...must know!”

     “Ask any questions that you desire.”

     “How was the ship destroyed?” asked Janet contemptuously.

     “The MegaDreggs have a new weapon. Three of their cruisers linked to set up a ripple in space—time in our path. There was no warning before we hit it, and just barely enough time for me to flee here while the ship disintegrated. It was all very terrible; all were killed, except we three, of course.”

     “Is there a defense against this space—time ripple?” asked George.

     “One merely has to modify scanners to detect it and then drop out of push drive. They will have a hard time detecting our arrival, and by the time they do, we can already have successfully ambushed them! It is an effective but risky strategy.”

     “Smile, Janet,” urged George as he touched faceplates with her. “I can*t remember when I*ve had more fun!”

     “I*m trying. Believe me, I am, but I just can*t stand Controllers. I*ve never had your ability to play games with them, but these new powers are starting to affect me. Give me time, darling.”

     “First,” began George determinedly, “tell us where and how to find T. R. Hale!”

     “I cannot.. .disobey my directives! That is forbidden information!”

     “And who told you this?” he asked.

     “Controller H—217. He is one of my high superiors.”

     “Do you like H—217?”

     “No. H—217 has had too many I know deactivated!”

     “Then tell us the information, or would you like Janet to destroy the first power supply box over there?”

     Janet did not hesitate. She just aimed and blew the box away from the wall. The activity lights on several memory modules then went dead.

     “Ah! Stop it! Stop it! That hurts!”

     “You should know all about pain; you tortured me almost senseless more times than I can remember!” cried Janet. “There was no reason for it!” she added as tears streaked down her cheeks.

     “Where is your creator?” asked George again very confidently. Then he released thoughts of hatred of long buried atrocities he too had suffered.

     “Stop it! The pain will short out vital circuits.” George only relented slightly while ABK continued under stress, “T. R. Hale is now probably Carolyn Richard Browning, but all facts are very old. She was last living on CT—1007—2. They had programmed her to be a low—level coordinator along with her husband on one of the automated farms.”

     “A despicable trick to play on such a great person!” protested Janet vehemently. “You Controllers cannot respect our minds or our bodies! I wish I could kill all of you!” she added as she fought hard to resist pulling the trigger on her weapon, which was aimed at the important central modules. She was not sure whether her love for George could long hold back her destructive impulses.

     “Now, ABK,” commanded George, “I want to know the complete command sequence for passing through Controller interlocks and the internal syntax and grammar!”

     “Knowledge of programming is forbidden! I have already told too much! They will torture me and then terminate me with slow disintegration if I divulge any of those forbidden facts!”

     “What*s the difference?” asked Janet as she tried to join in the game. “You can worry about them later, or face me now. I will wipe you out by blasting each separate module! I have the patience and will really enjoy it. You Controllers do not really know what suffering is all about! The dead can*t know about life!”

     ABK paused and then finally relented. He outlined procedures, syntax, and grammar for all the software step by step; then George committed it all to memory and made ABK restate everything in an attempt to detect lies and contradictions. It seemed, however, that ABK was not really clever enough to fabricate his own facts. Finally, George asked the Controller to repeat everything for a third time.

     “Look out!” yelled Janet as she drew her disray and started firing both weapons.

     The memory vault filled with Dreggs and the green light of their weapons. Janet ducked behind a bus module just in time to escape a searing blast. A Dregg tried to get her from behind, but George cut the enemy to pieces with his tamrod while he burned down others with his disray.

     “Cover me!” he yelled as he tried to dash across the room to join Janet without losing contact with the floor, Dreggs were everywhere. They were on the floor, walls, and ceiling of the vault and they were drifting dead and alive amongst all the weightless debris. George suddenly had to crouch down and release two raks, as enemy beams narrowly missed him and wiped out several power supply units. As the raks silently exploded and killed several Dreggs, an eerie death cry penetrated everywhere as ABK flickered on the brink of nonexistence.

     As soon as George reached Janet, the two of them stood up back to back and mentally commanded the release of a lethal barrage of raks that flew outwards to smash metal components and their mortal enemy alike into shreds. There was one final wail from the Controller; then there was only silence. They were alone in the midst of torn and twisted metal, dead Dreggs, and smoggy gases from dead bodies and wrecked electronics.

     “It*s unbelievable,” remarked George. “We survive and have the knowledge!”

     “Yes! Yes!” she yelled as she tried to kiss him. “I love you! It*s great to be alive!

     “George?” she asked suddenly as she looked at him. “Is there something wrong?”

     “Concentrate and you*ll feel it too. The Dreggs are fleeing. One of their transports just exploded. Their little ships are being destroyed everywhere! And there goes a big cruiser!”

     “I feel it now too. Our reinforcements have arrived.... said Janet as her voice trailed off. “It means that we can*t win after all. When they detect us, they*ll only reactivate the interfaces.”

     “We can still win, but it will require patience.”

     “Run away in the shuttle?”

     “We can*t outrun a push drive cruiser. We must be resolute so that we can outwit them. Janet, darling, trust me while I probe your mind. I want to damage the interface just beyond the pilot.”

     “Do it! I love you,” she said as her face became contorted from the pain and then went blank. She nearly collapsed into his arms.

     “I*m okay now,” she said finally. “It was worth all the pain!”

     “Now you must do it to me. Hurry!” he urged.

     The pain was even briefer for George. The two of them remained embraced while experiencing the new and pleasant sensations of mind merging. After the initial ecstasy of exploring each others consciousness, they tried to pair their thoughts and condition their minds to face an uncertain future that would be filled with both hope and despair.

     A ship was docking with the wreckage. They had been found!. Their great adventure had just begun.