“What did you put up my nose?”

“A scope,” Riley said. “You don’t have a corona. You have what I presume is a lot of technology with you. Communication stuff?”

“Uh… yes?”

Riley de-catalyzed the extinction-level ammunition in her gun. She let the fibrils recede, the ones that were engorged with her fluids dragging their way through her veins on the way back out. “Then I believe you. Where’s Valkyrie?”

“Valkyrie is gone,” Sarah said. “The world is ending.”

Riley nodded. “How?”

“The cycle never stopped.”

“Oh,” Riley said. “Valkyrie and I thought we had longer.”

“Apparently not. We’re short on options, but we have ideas. We’d appreciate your help.”

“There are better choices. Panacea?”

“No. Unwell. She thought she would do more harm than good.”

“I don’t know that there are. But other people are better prepared to explain that. We have the equipment to call them, they can explain.”

“Alright. Please make the call,” Riley said.

The man hurried to get gear out. He hadn’t wet himself, it seemed. A small part of her was disappointed. It was hard to put that part away, after it had lived with her for all this time.

“How is the flock, if Valkyrie is…?”

“Gone? She became an extension of the power network. We’re calling them Titans. The flock is disturbed.”

“If you need any attention or touch ups…”

“We might. Thank you.”

“Do you accept it that easily because you trust me, or because you don’t have any choice?”

“Valkyrie trusted you, and she didn’t trust easily. I can’t speak for every member of the flock, but I do trust you.”

“Even though I’m occupying myself with this? Weapons? Do you know what would have happened if I’d pulled this trigger?”

“Booting up,” the man said.

Riley raised her eyebrow, looking at the woman. “Any guesses?”

“The weapons don’t matter. We might need weapons. If we don’t extend the benefit of a doubt, then all you have left are the benefits of being dubious.”

“That sounds like a saying.”

“A lesson I had to learn on my own.”

“You’re on,” the man said, looking frightened to be butting in like he was.

“Hello?” the voice came across the line. “Riley Davis?”

⊙

Thirty years in the future, a child was programmed. Messages, impulses, and a noise that ears weren’t receptive to reached into a pregnant belly and they filled the child with rage.

The mother held her belly with both arms as the child thrashed and kicked within its hot bath of amniotic fluid, smiling.

Every living thing was an extension of a greater machine. These children would be trained, weeded out, honed, and made into exceptional weapons, before being flung at one another. Powers would be distributed by a system, utilized against one another, analyzed, and broken down.