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Description
Cyborg

Prologue
Date: 2643
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The doctor glanced over his shoulder at the mountain range at his back; the green peaks ascended and dived incrementally, a good sign. The operation was going well. So well, in fact, that it looked as if it was going to be a success.
He reached lower, angling the soldering iron so that he could get a better angle of attack. Touching the searing tip of the gun to the solder, the wires joined to the terminal, forming a bond. He pulled back his hands and continued on the other wires, mere millimeters across from the previous ones. Metal melted and pooled around the wires. A thin wisp of black smoke drifted into the air as the tip connected with synthetic flesh. The doctor’s heart stopped and a sickening feeling invaded his stomach, but only for a second. It was only a small mistake, one that could easily be fixed by Cosmetics. He inhaled, briefly catching the taste of burned plastic If that’s what it even is, and continued to touch the solder. As delicate as the procedure was, it was relatively short; circa ten minutes. His was the easy part; the neurosurgeons had the hard process, and they had finished hours ago.
He complete and set down the gun on the tray to his right. Looking down he prepared to finish his job. After closing the maintenance panel, he took a Philips head from next to the needle nose pliers and began to tighten the screws. The job was done. He called over the nurse who then pulled back the skin and began to sew it back into place.
He aroused the patient who came to and looked up at him with glossed over eyes. His voice was that of a man who had just woken up, “Doctor, did it work?”
The surgeon removed his mask and gloves, “That’s what we’re gonna find out.” He took a small cylinder of aluminum about the size of a pencil and moved it to the patient’s finger tips. The probe had a tiny point on the end. He touched the needle to the patient’s pointer finger.
His arm jerked up into the air and grabbed the doctor’s. His appendage collided with the instrument tray, causing an explosion of chrome tools. The probe went soaring into the air, clattering across the floor, under a cabinet. Every pair of eyes in the room traveled to the patient’s hand. The surgeon didn’t even care about the death grip on his wrist, the enclosed fingers nearly cracking his bones. He would soon wear the red lines and bruises as a badge of honor. He was too focused on the right arm that grasped his to think of anything else, to focused even to breath. The one that hadn’t been able to feel anything, let alone move, for the past four years. The one that, under the synthetic skin, was made of metal.
After several seconds his lungs screamed for air and he finally relented.
“We’ve done it.”
Around the world, people sat glued to their TVs. The news stations have been playing the same thing all morning, translated to hundreds of languages to meet the masses. Two men stood  a few feet behind a podium and the podium at the top of huge white steps in front of a medical facility. In front of them stood a massive crowd. The midday sun reflected off of the windows that spanned the sides of the building. As voice came over a PA and introduced the ‘Esteemed Doctor Charles Plankit’ the man wearing glasses stepped up the platform. He cleared his throat, “Ladies and gentlemen, a major scientific breakthrough has happened not two days prior. This man,” he gestured to the middle aged man behind him, “Fredrick Arsonel has had a hand” he quietly allowed himself a small chuckle, “in creating possibly the most important scientific advancement of this decade, this century, maybe even this millennium!”
Across the globe, people leaned closer to their TVs.
“Last Tuesday, if you had asked Fred to shake your hand, he would have extended his left arm. If you wanted him to play, baseball perhaps, he would’ve respectively declined because such an act would be all but impossible for him. You see, four years ago, Freddy was involved in a head-on collision with a semi truck. Both vehicles were moving at upwards of fifty miles an hour. Due to nothing short of the grace of God, he survived, but after prolonged sessions of physical therapy, his right arm was diagnosed immobile for the rest of his life. He has not moved or felt anything with his right arm for four years! Then my team and I came along. Due to countless years of planning and research, it was decided that the procedure could be done.” The crowd began to stir with anticipation. Murmurs rose and people started looking at each other with questioning faces, hoping that, perhaps, they somehow held the answers. Doctor Plankit lifted his hands and gestured to the crowd to quiet down. He wore a smile on his face, a smile of knowing, a smile that those in the crowd knew said that he was the one with the answers, not those around them.
“Mere days ago the procedure was concluded a success and Fred regained the mobility of his arm. What sort of surgery could cure paralysis? What surgery could, with research, potentially let the blind see, the deaf hear and the mute talk?” At this the crowd quieted down and started to buzz all at once. He motioned for Eddy to come up, which he did, “I proudly introduce…”
The tension apexed to an almost unbearable height…
“… the world’s first fully cybernetic limb!” The crowd exploded in applause. Raising his hands again he calmed the lively crowd, “The first step in the procedure is to implant a microcomputer into the subject’s brain. This is used to control the new limb. We connect the limb and the computer through a series of wires. The result, short of all the medical and scientific jargon,” the crowd met his smile with their own, “is the limb being able to function exactly as the original would. The results are incredible and the possibilities endless!” At this he raised his arms again and lifted his hands to the heavens. With the look of a man who had just saved the world on his face, he said the words that would live on forever and become one of the most well know exclamations ever:
“I hereby usher in the age of cybernetics!”

I
Date: 3243
“Our top story: China is under new leadership. Yesterday Emperor Swang Hizu stepped down from his position. He stated that he was becoming too old to successfully lead his nation and appointed his son Han Hizu to take over the thrown. He graciously accepted saying that “The new China will rise and lead the ways of the future.” Han Hizu has long been an advisor to the Emperor and at the age of 43 is considered to have already been the acting Emperor if not in title. The instating ceremony was jammed packed and the new leader was received with open arms.”
Scott Tues drove down the street, his car making hardly a sound and a faint whirr coming from his right arm; one so slight only he could detect it. He looked through his tinted glasses down the street and cursed his horrible eyes. Another raise and I’ll be able to fix that. The car sped past a Retirement Home and glanced at it. I’ve got a while to go before the send me to one of those, thank God. He was only twenty-six and still had a good one seventy-four years until his time expired.
With the coming of cybernetics came some new rules. People could live to unprecedented years; if their heart failed they could go get a synthetic one installed and go about their lives. People started living too long and consequently problems arose. People started taking advantage of exceptionally long life; from economics to social and political control. Unjust leaders’ reigns lasted too long and monopolies were formed from years of working on economic domination. The government, of the US at least, decided that long life was unjust to society. Meetings were held, amendments were made and it was ‘Prohibited by federal law to prolong life beyond the age of one hundred.’ It took nearly half a millennium for the populace to get used to the government coming and essentially killing people at a certain age, but it was eventually accepted and was now the norm.
He remembered back to when he was in grade school. Their textbooks told them of how people used to live, how people used to live to, on average, only their mid-eighties! When cybernetics came along, they wanted to live longer! Humans were greedy at heart. They were given another fifteen years to live, but that wasn’t good enough. They wanted more. Scott was happy to say that, despite the fact that he didn’t want to go to the Retirement Home, he would willingly. He was a good citizen and would abide by the laws that were in place. The people in power weren’t dumb, and the laws were made for a reason.
Scott arrived at his house, a quaint white house in the suburbs with a stone trail leading from the driveway to the front door. Driving up the driveway he saw his Chinese, neighbor Jin Sanahoweveryousayit, he could never get it right, taking out the trash. The car stopped and he got out. “How goes it Jin?”
Jin smacked his hands together, “Not bad, and yourself?”
“Ah, you know how it is: you win some, you lose some.” he shrugged and smiled, “What can you do?”
“Stick it out, take it in stride and try not to punch the guy bossing you around.”
Scott raised his hand, “I’ll drink to that. Talk to you later huh?”
“Yep, see you later.”
Removing his glasses he stood still at the front door for the retinal scan. A blue beam washed across his right eye, up and down, and the metal box made a beep. The door swung open and Mark stepped in. He put his glasses back on and the room became a lot clearer. “Lights!” The room became illuminated at the sound of his voice. Tossing his keys on the counter he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge and grabbed a Coke can out. Mark popped the top and took a swig. Lowering the can his hand suddenly clinched and crushed the can. “Right.” Pop littered the floor. Upon cleaning the sticky mess he headed over to the computer to fix his arm’s glitch. He got on-line to the Cybernetic National’s website. “Let’s see.” His eyes scanned the page. “Ah, there it is.” He exclaimed, clicking on a bright blue button labeled ‘Software’. He clicked on the update section and, peeling back his skin to examine his serial number and entered it. The filed started to download and he sat back in his chair and waited for it to finish. His arm twitched again. He looked down at it, “All in good time.”
A short sound signified the completion of the download. Scott sat up in his seat plugged in a chord that ran from his arm to the computer. He double clicked the file on his desktop and hit ‘Install’ and waited for it to its work. It finished and he pulled the chord out of his arm. He raised his arm and moved his wrist, his fingers and waited to see if it would twitch again. It didn’t. Satisfied, he put back his skin and closed the internet. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the day; it was good to be home from work. He folded his hands behind his head and briefly touched the Watcher installed on the back of his neck.
The Watcher was a small metal cylinder about the size of a quarter implanted into his skin. Everyone had one; at birth they were installed. It was the very first thing to be done, even before the umbilical chord was cut. The Watcher was wirelessly connected to a central network controlled by the government. They used it to keep tabs on people; the feds could monitor your vital signs by using it, among other things.
Upon becoming sick, people could even hook their Watcher up to their personal computer and diagnose their illness. Using this was also how they knew when you hit one hundred and when they needed to admit you to a Retirement Home. Crimes were sometimes even solved by using the Watcher to gain insight into a suspects thinking and sub consciousness. The Watcher was your I.D., your driver’s license, your credit cards. New information was entered via a computer and updated through the data base. Scanning terminals were installed at the fingertips for easier access to personal information such as credit cards.
Some cybernetic replacements were covered by the national health care and before the Watcher were often taken advantage of. Now, while monitoring health, the Watcher could detect self-inflicted injuries. If someone came in for an operation on the government’s tab, the Watcher could admit or deny them the surgery. Heath fraud was quelled successfully. Scott knew all too well about the Watcher and its capabilities; his life revolved largely around it. He worked for the government, the FBI to be specific, and the Watcher was often used to keep track of people on probation or those suspected to be involved in illegal activities. It was one of the best inventions to be created, he thought, next to cybernetics of course, looking at his arm.
He leaned back again and noticed a slight pulsing red light out of the corner of his eye. Turing his head he saw the source of the light: it was his answering machine. He mentally turned on the phone implanted in his brain. It was one of the perks of working as a cop and in turn the government; you usually got the newest and coolest gadgets and the phone just so happened to be one of them. It was implanted on the outside of his brain when he became an FBI agent, roughly six years ago. The phone was synced with his current setup at home, along with the FBI’s system, so he could check his messages from anywhere and could dial someone’s number remotely also. The messages started to play.
A monotone female voice flooded his head; “One new message. Message one.” This time it was another woman’s voice he heard resounding in his mind. It was his girl friend, Sie Wong. He could still envision the day they met; he was at work doing paper work as the result of a bad April Fools day joke, and she walked in. She walked up to his desk holding some papers in her hands. He took a second to catch his breath. She was stunning; shoulder length black hair, slightly curled up at the ends, uncharacteristically long legs for an Asian, (Chinese he later found out). Her brown eyes meeting his she stepped up to the desk and spoke, “I want to become an American.” He couldn’t help but to smile at her naiveté.
“Sorry ma’am, you’re at the wrong place for that. I could though, show you how to get it done.” He suggested. She instantly smiled and her eyes lit up,
“Oh! That would be wonderful! I would greatly appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ve just got to finish up some stuff here and then we can get this all straightened out.” He did his things and they went out to lunch to discuss how to get her affairs on order and become nationalized. He gave her his number “Just in case you have any trouble,” and she called him a few days later, lost and confused. He picked her up and drove her back to her apartment. Things took off after that.
“Hey hon, it’s me. I was thinking we could go and get something to eat tomorrow or something? Maybe see a movie? Anyway, call me when you can. Love ya.”
“End of new messages.” He dialed her number. He let the other line ring until he got the message machine, “Hey, you’ve reached Sie. Leave me a message and your number and I’ll call you as soon as I can.” BEEP.
“Uh yeah, Sie it’s me. I get off early tomorrow so we should defiantly go out. Call me when you get this. Talk to you later.” He hung up.
Scott walked into the next room and sat on the couch. Looking around he spied the remote and angling it at the TV, brought the screen to life. He turned on basketball and watched his favorite team get mercilessly beaten. Aggravated, he flipped off the TV and threw the remote across the couch. He looked at his watch; the date read June 12th, 3555, 1:36 am. It had the 11nth when he started watching the TV. Where does the time go? He got up and checked his messages hoping to find the red bulb once again blinking, but did not. Disappointed he trudged to the bathroom, now feeling the effects of the early hour, and hastily dragged a tooth brush against his teeth. Stripping down to his boxers he collapsed into his bed, blissfully unaware that his slumber would be one of the last periods of happiness that he would experience in a while.

II
Date: 3256 “In other news; China started its launch of a network of satellites into orbit at two o’ clock Eastern Time today. The network has been estimated to cost over 2.3 billion US dollars, although those numbers haven’t been confirmed by Chinese authorities. The purpose of the satellites was revealed in a Chinese press conference today. They were said to be “the newest form of cell phone communication. These satellites will effectively eliminate the problems caused by modern cell phones. They will also be used to transfer data and information via television and the Internet.” Chinese spokespeople say a network of much smaller magnitude has been in use by the military for years and has been proven to work and fulfill the claims.”
Scott rubbed the fatigue from his eyes and sat up in bed. Blinking his eyes he put on his glasses, making his vision much better, and got himself dressed for the day. His work required him to wear a suite jacket and matching pants with a dress shirt underneath. He pulled on his belt and threaded the leather through the belt loops, and then the loops to his holster. Buckling the belt, he grabbed his gun from the drawer next to his bed. Opening another drawer he took out the clip and loaded it. Satisfied, he put the magazine in the Glock and the Glock in the holster. Pulling on his suite jacket he successfully veiled the gun from the average citizen. He hadn’t ever needed to use it, but as an officer he was required to have one and it didn’t bother him to wear it. He had grown up around firearms; they were as natural as breathing.
He fixed himself a bowl of cereal and nearly inhaled it. Scott looked at the clock; it was nearly seven. He needed to hurry if he was going to make it on time. He finished his breakfast and threw the bowl and spoon in the sink. “I’ll clean it later.” He grabbed his keys, locking the front door, and rushed out to his car.
Jumping in he buckled up and backed out of the drive way. He barreled down the road as fast as he legally could. Pedestrians blurred by as his car sped past them. He hit a red light a halted the car. “Come on, come on.” He looked at the clock: 6:54. He could see the complex from his car. The only thing preventing him from getting there was a red light and six minutes. The light turned green and he hit the gas. Two minutes later he arrived in his parking space and got out of his car, clicking the little button on his keys, a slight Beep confirming that it was locked. He headed to the door.
As this was a government facility, security was a lot tighter than other buildings. As he to approach the door he took off his glasses and met the scan with his right eye. The scanner ran over his eye, emitting a blue ray. With a click the scan stopped and the door opened. As soon as the scan stopped the information was sent to a computer that told the higher ups if you were late; Scott had seconds to spare.

III
Date: 3400 “… in other news; the government has concluded its census of the century. The dominating religion was Christianity, only slightly ahead of Buddhist. The top ethnicity that immigrated was Chinese with Mexican in a close second and German…”
He got to his desk and sat down, relieved that he had made it in time. Settling in he took off his jacket and tossed it over his chair and logged on to his computer. He checked his E-Mail and responded to any he deemed necessary and then took a second to relax. Looking out his window he saw the streets filled with cars going about their ways. He heard a knock on the door frame and swiveled around to meet his guest. It was a friend of his: Michael. He was dressed in a blue suite with a red tie, one that Scott didn’t think matched too well. They had met when Scott joined the force and had paired up as partners. Michael had prior military experience in Intelligence for the Marines and coupled with Scott and his interrogation training they made the perfect team for getting answers out of people who thought they would never spill the truth. “What can I do for ‘ya?”
“We’ve got a session at one o’ clock. Some guy suspected for murder. His prints are extremely close to the ones found on the knife but some bug in the system skewed ‘em up a little bit. Not enough to convict him. He, of course, claims he didn’t do it. One o’ clock, room three. Don’t forget.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Michael walked away and Scott began to tidy up his desk.
The lights flickered. Scott looked up at the bulb, a puzzled expression on his face.  They flickered again, and again. Finally, after a fourth spasm from the filament, they went out. Peoples’ voices floated through the halls; voices expressing confusion and, in some cases, frustration. Scot thought to himself; Good thing I wasn’t working on stuff on the computer. He walked out of his office to the dimly lit hallway. People were jogging back and forth, trying desperately to find the source of the problem. He looked to his right and saw his superior, a middle-aged man with sharpened features and a hooked nose that made him slightly resemble the villains in the old cowboy movies. He reached Scott and spoke; “There’s been a power outage.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Scott and his boss were on good terms so he could talk to him like another person, not a superior.
He got a sheepish look on his face, “Yeah, right. Anyway, there’s too much going on here right now, the generator’s broken and we kinda need these people out of our hair. Do you have any interrogations today?”
“I start at one.”
“Alright. Well, why don’t you get out of here until then, clear this place up a little it. You can come back in a little before one. Hopefully we’ll have everything cleaned up by then.”
“Sure thing.” Thankful for his stroke of good luck Scott went back to his office to grab his jacket and left the building. He got into his car and began the drive home.

IV
Date: 3473 “Day three of the nuclear peace talks ended in a way no one predicted. As the United States stated accusations towards Pakistan and reasons against the use and research of nuclear warheads, the Chinese Emperor, Han Hizu, stormed out of the United Nations diplomacy chambers, his advisors in tow. China has not been cooperating lately in the negotiations concerning the regulating of countries’ militaries and outlawing nuclear research. While China has no indication of nuclear testing or research and U.N. officials returned from their inspection a few months ago with the same results, the inspectors were let in only after intense coaxing from neighboring nations. They have also been known to side with countries that are under suspicion concerning military restrictions. Han Hizu has publicly made know his detestation towards the U.N., their regulations and the U.S. specifically. He has listened to the talks and inputted his opinion, forcefully at times, but has never shown a lack of respect to the U.N. during the talks, until now.”
The steady hum of his tires against the asphalt was the only sound to be heard in the town; there were no other cars on the road and nobody outside. Moving down the street, Scott looked at the buildings along side the road; they all seemed dark. The scenario struck Scott as somewhat eerie although he knew it was natural; most people were at work and their lights wouldn’t be on anyway. Still, despite the fact that even he should be at work, and that he had never even been giving the chance to see such desolation in such a familiar place gave him chills. Looking overhead he saw the sky; it was a dark grey and saturated with puffy clouds that only added to the gloomy scene. The windshield wipers started their monotonous movement as the glass sensed the rain begin to strike it. What started as a gentle drizzle took only mere moments later to escalate to torrents of water. The wipers’ movement intensified in a desperate attempt to keep the glass clear enough to see through; they only did the job slightly well. Scott leaned over the wheel and squinted, trying to get a good look at whatever lay ahead of him. His car sliced through the sheets of rain as he tried to keep it in his own lane, hoping he was doing a good job and appreciating the absence of other vehicles.
Water splashed as his car pulled into the drive way to his home. Turning the key he silenced the engine and waited a couple of minutes for the rain to subside. Not only did it not let up, but it was arguably coming down harder now. Deciding not to see if it would get any worse, at least not from his car, Scott prepared himself for a mad dash to the door. He opened the door and sprinted to the house. Luckily he bought a house with an awning else he would’ve gotten even more drenched as he waited for the scan to finish. The blue light clicked off and the door opened. Scott stumbled in.
Luckily, unlike at work, his generator did work and was pumping out enough energy to power the house. He tossed his keys on the counter next to the bowl and pulled off his shoes and socks. He made his way up stairs and put on some new clothes and turned on the TV upon coming back down. The buzz of static flooded the room as he flipped through the stations, only a few coming in. He happened upon a news station and caught the tail end of a breaking story, “The power outage seems to have spanned the entire country. Some fear that this has been an act of terrorism. Riots have broken out) and National Guard troops have been sent into especially bad areas. You are urged to stay in your homes for the time being and gather essential items such as water and…” Scott watched as the TV flashed footage of mobs fighting off police and crowd-control officers launching tear gas into the hordes for a few more seconds then flipped off the TV and went up stairs to get his pistol. “There is no way I’m just gonna stay here. I need to find out what the heck is going on, and check on Sie.” He grabbed his coat and keys and opened the door to head out to his car. He swung open the exit and stopped in his tracks; in the doorway stood Jin.
The rain splattered against Jin as he stood motionless in front of Scott. “Jin, what the heck are you doing here?”
The rain ran down his face. It made its way to his eyebrows, and down to his eyes. The water ran down onto his eyes and Scott could see it trickling down his retina and then his pupil. Jin didn’t blink. He stood there, not moving, then he spoke in a monotone voice that Scott had never come out of his mouth, “We will rise and lead the ways of the future.”
“What?”
Jin lunged at him.
Scott was knocked to the floor and Jin jumped on top of him and grabbed his neck. He felt his fingers tighten around his throat. Scott managed to get out a question, “Jin what are you doing?!” In response, Jin’s fingers only tightened. Scott swung his right arm at Jin’s face. His fist connected and Jin was knocked sideways off of Scott. Scott leaped to his feet and gasped for air, all the while his eyes on the figure sprawled on the floor. Blood trickling down his face, Jin slowly rose. Regaining his former height, he once again jumped at Scott who evaded the attack by side-stepping to the left. Jin crashed into the wall leaving a huge dent. He lay on the ground, not moving; Scott approached with caution. That hit should have knocked him out pretty good. He stood above the crumpled body and looked at him, pondering what could have incurred the assault and if it was somehow connected to the apparently national events that had occurred today.
Jin’s hand thrust out and grabbed Scott’s ankle, bringing him down to the ground.
They rolled around on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand over the other. They crashed into cabinets and fought into the living room. Jin grabbed a lamp from the side table and slammed it towards Scott. He thrust his right forearm up to absorb the blow. His cybernetic appendage took the brunt of the attack and Scott in turn took his hand and forced it into Jin’s stomach. He staggered back and attempted to catch his breath. Scott drew out his pistol, pointed it at the assailant, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet passed through Jin’s left shoulder and he fell to his knees. Blood cascaded from his wound and soaked the rug along with his clothes. Scott walked up to him and looked at his face; it was contorted in a look of obvious pain. His lips formed a sneer of sorts, a vein bulged from his neck and his eye brows stayed close to his eyes in a stare of anger. Yet despite all of his blatant pain, he did not cry out. He remained as quiet as he was when he first appeared.
This scared Scott.
He grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and made it into makeshift hand cuffs and tied Jin’s hands behind his back. Pulling him to his feet, he slung him into a chair and tied his feet to the chair’s. So much for not working. He closed the gap between their faces and started his interrogation with a gut feeling that this was more than some robbery, “What the heck were you doing? Huh? You think that you can just tackle someone and start choking them? Rolling around their house, wrecking everything, trying to kill them? Huh?”
No answer.
If I keep drilling him, he should crack and tell me what this is really about. This is defiantly something Jin would not do.  “This is highly illegal. I know everything there is to know about the law and this is something that is generally frowned upon. You know that you could go to jail for this right?”
“A cheap price to pay.”
Scott got close to his face, “For what?”
Jin blinked, but did not answer.
“O.K. then. This may make you change your mind.” He grabbed onto Jin’s left shoulder and began to squeeze. His face contorted and he ground his teeth, but he did not yield. Scott squeezed harder, pushing his finger into the wound. Jin’s mouth opened up in a silent scream. Scott let go and a small breath of air escaped Jin’s throat. “For what?” Jin did not answer and Scott moved to his shoulder again.
“For the future.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me!” he spat.
“What exactly do you mean ‘the future’?”
“America is weak, their time has expired.” He sat up in the chair and held his chin up high, “It is China’s era.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You think you are so mighty and omni powerful. You are sorely mistaken. It is our time.”
“For what?”
“It has already begun.” With this he got an evil grin, “Your ignorance is your downfall. You think you are the empire that cannot be toppled, but we have the upper hand in your ‘impenetrable’ country that you will no be able to gain back.”
“What are you talking about?! Tell me!”
“There was never any hope for you. We have started and it will soon be over.”
Scott grabbed his shoulder once again and began applying pressure ferociously, “What the heck are you talking about? What is going on- Wait, did you say ‘we’?” Jin did not respond. “You got people teamed up with you?”
Jin smiled like a hunter who upon seeing his trap, has found that he has ensnared prey, and then fainted. Scott slapped him, trying to get him to come to. He shook his body and started screaming for him to wake up but saw the immense pool of blood soaking his shins and stopped. He got up from his knees and slowly backed up in astonishment. What the heck is going on? There are more of Jin? What do they want? Who are ‘they’? Scott stopped dead in his tracks and his thoughts flashed from the bizarre events that had just unfolded to his girlfriend. “Dear lord: Sie.” He dashed to his car.

V
Date: 3548 “China has gained a new ally that has the rest of the world thinking twice about their intentions. During a meeting yesterday between Chinese Emperor Han Hizu and Pakistani President Ameen Rihad a pact was sealed concerning the trading and selling of technologies, most of which were weapon and military related. The two countries have been engaging in talks for quite some time. Ameen Rihad had made blatant contributions to terrorist cells and bears an unrivaled hatred towards America and its citizens.”
Scott pulled into Sie’s driveway and desperately looked to windows for any sign of life; light shone from behind the glass. He got out of the car and began walking up the stone walkway leading to the front door. The rain had subsided but left the concrete plastered with a slight layer of water. Scott had to walk slowly to avoid losing his footing, silently hoping that taking his time was not taking away from Sie’s. As he neared the entrance he saw that the door was open. His pace quickened as a sickening feeling invaded his stomach. He burst through the door with his gun drawn. “Sie?” he called out, “Are you here?” He slowly walked through the house all the while pointing his pistol in every nook and cranny, searching for an assailant. His head shot to his right as he heard a clatter come from upstairs. He barreled up the stairs, “Hang on! I’m coming!” He burst into Sie’s bed room with his arms outstretch, ready to put a bullet into anyone trying to hurt her. There was Sie, sitting on the floor, packing a suitcase. She looked up at him,
“Oh thank goodness you’re here.” She ran up and hugged him, “I wasn’t sure you were coming. I tried calling but no one answered. You’re O.K. right?” She looked at him, a worried look in her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you alright? Has anyone come in here?”
She suddenly looked confused, “No. Why?”
Scott hesitated, “I walked up and the front door was open and when I got home… I’ll tell you later. Look, we’ve got to get to somewhere safe. There is something really weird going on here.”
“I know. There were all sorts of thing happening on the news. I’m just gonna finish packing and then we can get out of here. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, neither do I.” He tightened his grip on the Glock, “I’m gonna keep watch down stairs, you know, just in case any one tries to come in here.”
“Alright, I’ll be done in a minute.”
Scott walked downstairs, shut the front door and locked it. He closed the curtains and turned off most of the lights. He switched off a lamp and stood back up. He turned around to the sound of running feet to see Sie charging with a baseball bat. She snarled at him and swung the wood at his head. Scott ducked, “What are you doing?!” Her answer was another swing that just barely missed Scott’s jaw. She swung again, the look of a deranged animal on her face. Scott caught the bat in mid-swing with his cybernetic arm, “What are you doing?!” Sie moved in close to him and reached for the Glock in its holster. She pulled it away from his waist and angled it at his head. She backed up, the gun still trained at his head,
“We shall rise up and lead the ways of the future.” She pulled back the slide to make sure there was a round in the chamber and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet seared past Scott’s head as he pushed off of the couch and flew to the right. He landed on his knees and threw the bat. It struck the gun and sent it soaring through the air across the room. They both sprinted towards it. Sie arrived first and pulled the gun to meet Scott. He ducked to the left and simultaneously shot his right hand up to her wrist. He squeezed and she dropped the firearm. Scott caught it in his left hand and brought it up. Sie sprinted towards the kitchen. Scott lifted the gun, put her in his sights, and watched her run into the other room. He could not shoot someone that he loved, even though she had just tried to do the same to him. He crept into the kitchen, the gun at the ready. He rounded the corner and saw Sie on her knees, a large carving knife in her hands. She had an oddly calm look on her face when she met his eyes and spoke, “Where I have failed the others will succeed.” Scott started towards her,
“NO! Wait!”
She pulled the knife across her neck.
Her body slumped to the ground and seconds later Scott’s followed. He crumpled to his knees. The gun hit the floor and he cradled his face in his hands. Tears flowed from his eyes as blood flowed from Sie’s neck. He crawled toward his dead love but stopped short. His legs were too weak. He couldn’t make the rest of the journey. He just lay there, staring at the gruesome scene that had happened in front of his eyes, the sticky liquid slowly creeping towards him. Sobs wracked his body and he went into compulsions of sorrow. He began to wail until his lungs were out of air and his crying stole any oxygen left to have. He sat there, face in hands, wallowing in his pain.

VI
Date: 3551 “Following the unveiling of China’s newest long-range weapon, Han Hizu called for an immediate parade through the streets. The parade featured the military might of China; boasting tanks, marching soldiers and banners proclaiming the Chinese right to the throne of the world. The parade went on for several hours and Hizu issued the order to halt all other activities and participate in the festivities. The whole nation stood on street corners and sidewalks, watching the soldiers march by. The parade ended with a speech from Han Hizu. In it he said quote, ‘China’s time in history has finally come. We are the way of the future of man-kind. We will stop at nothing to claim our rightful place as the leaders of civilization. We will reward those who cooperate, and show no mercy to those who stand in our way. We will walk the lands of the world as kings. We will not relent. We will not stop. We will do what ever is necessary.’ End quote.
The tires whirred across the street at unreal speeds. Scott no longer cared to abide by the law. He leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning a ghastly white, and gritted his teeth. He wiped his hand across his eyes to clear the tears from blurring his vision. His mind was a mess.
Jin slamming into the cabinet and glass spilling onto the ground. Sie dead on the kitchen floor. Blood falling from Jin’s shoulder, from Sie’s neck. Jin’s speech, planes crashing into buildings. Tanks rolling along blasting holes in concrete. People shouting and firing guns into the air. The rain streaming into Jin’s unblinking eyes. A bullet whizzing past his head. The brand of the knife in next to Sie; Kohl. The color of the curtains; green.
He shook his head and mentally pushed down the thoughts. He let his law-enforcement training and survival instinct take over, eradicating his mind of unsavory thoughts. He had to get to his work; they would have some idea as to what was going on, and it was a safe place to be.
Look, we’ve got to get to somewhere safe. There is something really weird going on here.”
“I know. There were all sorts of thing happening on the news. I’m just gonna finish packing and then we can get out of here. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, neither do I. I’m gonna keep watch down stairs, you know, just in case any one tries to come in here.”
“Alright, I’ll be done in a minute.” He shook his head again and focused more intently on the road.
He rocketed past the red light that had prevented him from getting to work earlier in the day. “Not twice.” As he pulled into the parking lot of the FBI facilities he noticed the lack of cars there; he was used to seeing more. Apparently most people hadn’t had the same idea of returning after they were sent home. Apparently most people hadn’t had their neighbor attack them. Apparently most people hadn’t watched at their girlfriend killed herself. He squinted his eyes and focused very intently on getting to double doors into the building. He fiddled with the safety on the Glock as he waited for the retinal scan to finish its work. With a beep it granted him access. A robotic voice greeted him as he passed thorough the doorway,
“Good day to you Mr. Tues.”
He ignored the greeting and walked past.
The building was still dark but Scott could see lights flashing around at the end of the hallway. He squeezed the grip of his sidearm and clicked off the safety moving closer to the wall. Walking heel-to-toe like he was taught in training, he approached the end of the hall. He swung his body around to meet whoever was around the corner and crouched, ready to put a bullet in their chest.
“Dear Lord! You scared the crap out of me Scott!” there stood, accompanied by two others, was Michael. His red tie was missing and he no longer wore his suite jacket that he had so shortly ago. In their place he held an M-4 assault rifle. His companions did the same. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”
“Not really.” Scott’s eyes suddenly felt extremely heavy. He struggled to keep them open.
“Oh.” Michael quietly replied. “Follow us. There are a few others of us here were holding up until we get some help.” The flashlights’ ors illuminated the hallway and projected circles of light on the wall as the walked down the corridors. They entered the communications room; people sat in chairs monitoring the radios and others stood or leaned against the wall; in all of their hands were rifles. A stack of extra magazines sat in the corner of the room, making almost as much noise as everyone else in the room. “We’ve gotten some transmissions from the National Guard,” he said, nodding towards one of the radios, “The first came in about two hours ago. They said that a bunch of oriental people had started a riot downtown. A little while after that they said more people showed, and they brought weapons. Not like clubs and stuff; I mean guns. They broke into stores and started raiding everything and making weapons for those who didn’t have any. Then we started getting calls from civilians saying that Asians were attacking neighbors and breaking into houses.”
The bullet headed towards the ground as the slide slid back and she pulled the trigger.
“I mean, it’s great that the generator for the radios worked, but it’s horrible to tell people in trouble that they’re basically on their own. Anyway,” he handed Scott an M-4, “this’ll probably work better than the Glock.” Scott looked down at the pistol and holstered it.
A great flash of light attacked Scott’s eyes and he staggered back from the sudden burst of illumination. People gasped all around the room and worried voices invaded his ears. He put his fingers to his eyes and after a little while peeled them off. In front of him was Michael blinking his eyelids obsessively. He offered a sheepish grin and a brief shrug, “Power’s back.”
Scott managed to bark a short laugh, something he had not thought possible, “Yeah, apparently.” He rose to his feet. Someone, looking out the window, spoke up to the rest of the group,
“Hey, we’re almost the only building with juice.”
Another person walked next to him and looked out the window, “Yeah, pretty much.” He squinted and pulled his head closer to the glass, “What is that… Oh crap.” He turned around and started shouting, “They’re coming!”
“The National Guard?”
“NO! A mob! A huge mob!” People started crowding around the window and murmuring.
Marching down the street towards the building was a horde of people. Scott estimated their numbers to be about fifty. He turned to Michael,
“We have no chance against those odds.”
“We’ve got to give it our best shot.” He backed up from the crowd, “Listen up! Everybody grab some extra ammo! They’re not gonna be able to find the back door so they’ll go to the most obvious place. Now, the front has the scan, so it’ll be a little before they’re able to get through. That’s our advantage. We can let them come to us. Grab ammo, let’s move!” People swarmed over to the ammunition pile and started groping for clips. Scott pulled two extra magazines from the pile and tossed another two to Michael, stuffing his own in his pockets.

VII
Date: 3554
“In a bold move, China initiated an attack against Japan. The strike came during the night, around one in the morning. The President met with his military advisors to discuss a plan of action. President Cambria is well known for wanting to avoid conflict and the meeting turned out in a similar manner, although by a slim margin. Japan is loosely allied with the US but did not send military reinforcements during the Pakistani Conflict. Experts say this may have contributed to the verdict from the meeting. We have more concerning the attack from our Asian correspondent, William Skil. William?
“Yes, the attack came unexpectedly. Planes flew overhead and bombed military instillations as well as civilian establishments. Although Japan has resisted, there does not seem to be too much hope for them. Their troops took a very long time to mobilize and…”
They marched through the halls to the front door. As they neared the door, people dragged desks out from the offices and flipped them over to make barriers to take cover behind. Scott got behind a desk with Michael. He turned to him and slapped him on the back, “Good luck man.”
Michael returned the favor though his eyes looked vacant and didn’t meet Scott’s, “Same to you man, same to you…”
Scott looked around; people sat crouched over, fiddling with their guns. Others had their eyes closed and their lips faintly moved, forming words of prayer. Bearing no religion, Scott pulled back the T-bolt on the M-4 racking a round into the chamber. He felt like that bullet was the closest thing divine intervention that he had.
The mass of assailants moved to the door and tried to get in; they pushed and pulled but the door would not relent, all the while their faces were bathed in azure light as the scanner moved back and forth, trying to get a good read. One of them eventually slammed a shot-gun but into it and it fell broken to the ground. It lay there and was trampled to pieces. They started jamming the guns into the glass, beating it with unparalled ferocity.
Scott tightened his grip on the rifle.
The Asians continued to strike the door and the glass began to warp. They slammed fists, gun butts, make-shift clubs and bats into it with renewed vigor. They were ever close to their prey.
He looked to Michael at his right. He was looking down the sights, steadily breathing in and out, the gun firmly placed against his shoulder. Obviously his military history was prevailing.
Hands wiped at their faces as perspiration dripped into their eyes. Breaths grew sharp and forced. People formed crossed across their chests. Bolts were pulled back. Eyes squinted down the sights and prepared to take human life to save their own.
For a split second, all Scott could hear was the steady tink of tiny shards colliding with the concrete entrance. Light reflected and refracted off of the glass. He sat mesmerized by it; he had seen light glint like that before, as if it were glinting off of a knife…
Then the last splinter came to a rest on the floor and the attackers crashed through the doorway.
Shadows danced on the walls as the muzzle flash illuminated the faces of the defenders. Teeth gritted on both sides as the vanguard took pounds of lead all the while shooting back at the guarders of the building. Scott pulled the trigger and sent a waterfall of bronze cascading over his shoulder. A stray shell from Michael’s gun ejected and hit Scott’s neck. It was searing hot, but he did not notice; he was totally focused. Anything less would mean he would not survive. He continued to pour countless rounds into the wave of people assaulting them. With a click Scott removed the clip protruding from his gun and replaced it with a full one. Pulling back the bolt he raised the gun to his shoulder and lined up the sights with one of the attacker. He squeezed the trigger and his target fell to the floor. A person to his right fell and, like the empty shell, he ignored them and only thought of them as a number. Now there’s only ten of us. They continued to storm through the opening.
A huge explosion rocked the building and everyone fell over. Scott struggled to his feet, grabbing his rifle, and saw lights flashing outside the door. The Asians turned and looked over their shoulders and those defending looked the same way. A faint whistle went through the air and was followed by another blast. Rubble and bodies went flying. Scott looked out the door and into the parking lot. He saw figures running back and forth. The stopped looked towards the building. From their muzzle flash he could make out helmets and camouflage. The National Guard had finally arrived.
Someone stood at the back of the hallway closely hugging the cover of the intersecting walls, “Hey!” She motioned and shouted to the rest, “The Guard says they want us to get somewhere else. They’re gonna hit the entrance with the tanks! We need to get out and away from the hallway! They’re giving us two minutes!” With that she disappeared behind the wall. People started getting up and running the gauntlet to sanctuary; although the National Guard was drawing a lot of the fire, a few bullets continued to streak through the hallway’s air. Scott looked at Michael, “Man, let’s get out of here.”
“Affirmative.”
“On three; one… two…,” he extended two fingers and then a third, “THREE!” They shot up from their prone position and bolted out of the reach of the tanks’ guns. Suddenly, Scott collapsed on the ground. Michael heard him grunt and whipped around,
“SCOTT!”
He struggled to get up. Tightening his hand on the barrel of the gun, he attempted to use it as a crutch. His legs resembling a plucked guitar string, he rose to his feet, only to be struck down again. Scott plummeted to the ground and, this time, did not get up.

VIII
“Last night, American citizens suddenly turned on the populace. The attack came unexpectedly and without warning. All of the culprits seem to be of Asian decent, although no single ethnicity has of yet been confirmed. The citizens began to attack their neighbors, friends and anyone else who they came across. Within a short time of the attack, the assailants formed groups and began to rove the streets looking for people to attack. It is strongly advised that you stay in your homes and barricade any entrances: doors, windows, anywhere someone could get into the house. It is also advised that you arm yourselves…”
“It has been two days since the sudden attack from what has now been identified as the Chinese populace. After an emergency session with congress,, the President has declared war on China. Apparently, during the meeting, some highly classified information was disclosed that helped make the martial decision…”
“Around one o’ clock this morning, American and British troops broke the Chinese borders following bombing runs. No further details have been disclosed at this time. We’ll continue to update you as soon as we get information. Meanwhile; on the home front the battle continues against the former Chinese citizens. There has been no inclination as to China sending additional troops to help their fighters here but the National Guard, along with helping defend and secure the countryside, has set up defenses spanning all the borders…”
“American and British troops took the capitol of China early this morning. While the Emperor was not found, several of his advisors were and have been interrogated. They revealed that the Chinese citizens were controlled by the government and were, quote, ‘turned on’…”
“The system that was used to initiate the attack was revealed today. It seems that a satellite system was installed some 300 years ago under the guise of a new form of communication. It was implemented by Emperor Han Hizu. He has been feeding the American population with his ‘sleepers’ close for the whole time he held his title, close to 300 years, and is possible that he used his influence with the prior Emperor to start his infiltration even before he was in office. It is unknown how the ‘sleepers’ were initiated, but experts and military officials say as the troops push further into China and discover new sources of intelligence, the answer is not far away.”
“It has been confirmed after scientific testing that the Watchers installed in the Chinese insurgents were the ignition source for their simultaneous attack. The Watcher is implemented in all but four countries and is used for many things, all most designed for the betterment of society. Apparently Han used the cybernetic industry and the consequential use of Watcher units to take control of anyone who had been installed with one. With the Watcher being directly connected to the brain to properly control cybernetic enhancements, Hizu drafted, whether willingly or by force, various software engineers to write a program that could control the mind and actions of the one who bore the Watcher. In a monopoly of the cybernetics industry and a highly classified software engineering program, Hizu quietly brainwashed the Chinese population and initiated the attack, against their will, at the time he dubbed right. Chinese citizens continue to fight both here and in China, against their own free will…”
“Late last night, American troops secured the top-secret military site where the software was written to control the Watchers.. It was apparently a treasure-trove of valuable intelligence and will probably prove to be pivotal in the war.”
“With information found at the ‘Loyalty Facility’, troops have located and deactivated the position that was transmitting commands to the satellite system and then to the sleepers. At two o’ clock today Chinese citizens stopped fighting and looked around to find themselves somewhere else from where they were months ago, and without a clue as to what had happened. As soon as they were ‘deactivated’ they began to flee and many of the defenders gave chase, killing those who were essentially innocent. The news is being spread that the invaders have been quelled and that the assault on the country is over…”
“We come to you with a breaking story. Details are sketchy at this time but it has been confirmed that the Emperor Han Hizu has been captured.  Hizu was found barricade in a bunker sometime last nigh although we can’t be sure of the time or location. He has been taken into American custody and moved to a confidential location to undergo interrogation.”
“Following the interrogation and confession of Emperor Han Hizu a United Nations meeting has been called for. The representatives are expected to meet within the week.”
“Resulting in the UN meeting yesterday, Han Hizu has been given a sentence; he has been condemned to death under the grounds of ‘crimes against humanity.’ His hanging is scheduled for sometime next month…”

IX
Scott drove down the street, trying to ignore the blatant signs of the struggle that had happened only half a year ago. He passed a large facility and quickly turned his head; it was one of the ‘Processing Camps’ that the Chinese were taken to. There they were supplied with a new, American, Watcher. But it wasn’t that easy; he constantly heard the horror stories about some of the men who ran the camps. They couldn’t shake their prejudices about any one who was Chinese and treated them like they were scum and still the enemy, even though it was explained that it was not by their hand that they attacked. Their superiors looked the other way.
The Chinese had become the lowest in American eyes, and all because of a few men with a distorted outlook on the human life. He turned on the radio, “American troops continue to battle the Chinese resistance. A new leader has taken over the position of Emperor and urges them to not give up the fight. Military analysis George-” he flipped it off; he was sick of hearing the same thing. He pulled into work.
Scott sat at his desk and began doing some simple tasks. The first bullet that had hit him while he tried to escape the hallway not three feet away had grazed his right calf and the second had hit his back. Miraculously, both had fully healed and he only suffered a slight limp. His assistant walked in, “Sir, you’ve got an appointment at one o’ clock.”
Scott waved his hand, “Yeah thanks. I’ve got it.” The assistant nodded and continued down the hallway. Scott thought about the assistant’s name; Colman. Kohl. He was wearing an emerald shirt. Green. Scott let out a sigh. A sigh. Sie. His head drooped and he grew silent. Everything around him faded: all sounds, all sights. Scott squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight the inevitable...
Only the bullet wounds had healed.

Description
Cyborg

Prologue
Date: 2643
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The doctor glanced over his shoulder at the mountain range at his back; the green peaks ascended and dived incrementally, a good sign. The operation was going well. So well, in fact, that it looked as if it was going to be a success.
He reached lower, angling the soldering iron so that he could get a better angle of attack. Touching the searing tip of the gun to the solder, the wires joined to the terminal, forming a bond. He pulled back his hands and continued on the other wires, mere millimeters across from the previous ones. Metal melted and pooled around the wires. A thin wisp of black smoke drifted into the air as the tip connected with synthetic flesh. The doctor’s heart stopped and a sickening feeling invaded his stomach, but only for a second. It was only a small mistake, one that could easily be fixed by Cosmetics. He inhaled, briefly catching the taste of burned plastic If that’s what it even is, and continued to touch the solder. As delicate as the procedure was, it was relatively short; circa ten minutes. His was the easy part; the neurosurgeons had the hard process, and they had finished hours ago.
He complete and set down the gun on the tray to his right. Looking down he prepared to finish his job. After closing the maintenance panel, he took a Philips head from next to the needle nose pliers and began to tighten the screws. The job was done. He called over the nurse who then pulled back the skin and began to sew it back into place.
He aroused the patient who came to and looked up at him with glossed over eyes. His voice was that of a man who had just woken up, “Doctor, did it work?”
The surgeon removed his mask and gloves, “That’s what we’re gonna find out.” He took a small cylinder of aluminum about the size of a pencil and moved it to the patient’s finger tips. The probe had a tiny point on the end. He touched the needle to the patient’s pointer finger.
His arm jerked up into the air and grabbed the doctor’s. His appendage collided with the instrument tray, causing an explosion of chrome tools. The probe went soaring into the air, clattering across the floor, under a cabinet. Every pair of eyes in the room traveled to the patient’s hand. The surgeon didn’t even care about the death grip on his wrist, the enclosed fingers nearly cracking his bones. He would soon wear the red lines and bruises as a badge of honor. He was too focused on the right arm that grasped his to think of anything else, to focused even to breath. The one that hadn’t been able to feel anything, let alone move, for the past four years. The one that, under the synthetic skin, was made of metal.
After several seconds his lungs screamed for air and he finally relented.
“We’ve done it.”
Around the world, people sat glued to their TVs. The news stations have been playing the same thing all morning, translated to hundreds of languages to meet the masses. Two men stood  a few feet behind a podium and the podium at the top of huge white steps in front of a medical facility. In front of them stood a massive crowd. The midday sun reflected off of the windows that spanned the sides of the building. As voice came over a PA and introduced the ‘Esteemed Doctor Charles Plankit’ the man wearing glasses stepped up the platform. He cleared his throat, “Ladies and gentlemen, a major scientific breakthrough has happened not two days prior. This man,” he gestured to the middle aged man behind him, “Fredrick Arsonel has had a hand” he quietly allowed himself a small chuckle, “in creating possibly the most important scientific advancement of this decade, this century, maybe even this millennium!”
Across the globe, people leaned closer to their TVs.
“Last Tuesday, if you had asked Fred to shake your hand, he would have extended his left arm. If you wanted him to play, baseball perhaps, he would’ve respectively declined because such an act would be all but impossible for him. You see, four years ago, Freddy was involved in a head-on collision with a semi truck. Both vehicles were moving at upwards of fifty miles an hour. Due to nothing short of the grace of God, he survived, but after prolonged sessions of physical therapy, his right arm was diagnosed immobile for the rest of his life. He has not moved or felt anything with his right arm for four years! Then my team and I came along. Due to countless years of planning and research, it was decided that the procedure could be done.” The crowd began to stir with anticipation. Murmurs rose and people started looking at each other with questioning faces, hoping that, perhaps, they somehow held the answers. Doctor Plankit lifted his hands and gestured to the crowd to quiet down. He wore a smile on his face, a smile of knowing, a smile that those in the crowd knew said that he was the one with the answers, not those around them.
“Mere days ago the procedure was concluded a success and Fred regained the mobility of his arm. What sort of surgery could cure paralysis? What surgery could, with research, potentially let the blind see, the deaf hear and the mute talk?” At this the crowd quieted down and started to buzz all at once. He motioned for Eddy to come up, which he did, “I proudly introduce…”
The tension apexed to an almost unbearable height…
“… the world’s first fully cybernetic limb!” The crowd exploded in applause. Raising his hands again he calmed the lively crowd, “The first step in the procedure is to implant a microcomputer into the subject’s brain. This is used to control the new limb. We connect the limb and the computer through a series of wires. The result, short of all the medical and scientific jargon,” the crowd met his smile with their own, “is the limb being able to function exactly as the original would. The results are incredible and the possibilities endless!” At this he raised his arms again and lifted his hands to the heavens. With the look of a man who had just saved the world on his face, he said the words that would live on forever and become one of the most well know exclamations ever:
“I hereby usher in the age of cybernetics!”

I
Date: 3243
“Our top story: China is under new leadership. Yesterday Emperor Swang Hizu stepped down from his position. He stated that he was becoming too old to successfully lead his nation and appointed his son Han Hizu to take over the thrown. He graciously accepted saying that “The new China will rise and lead the ways of the future.” Han Hizu has long been an advisor to the Emperor and at the age of 43 is considered to have already been the acting Emperor if not in title. The instating ceremony was jammed packed and the new leader was received with open arms.”
Scott Tues drove down the street, his car making hardly a sound and a faint whirr coming from his right arm; one so slight only he could detect it. He looked through his tinted glasses down the street and cursed his horrible eyes. Another raise and I’ll be able to fix that. The car sped past a Retirement Home and glanced at it. I’ve got a while to go before the send me to one of those, thank God. He was only twenty-six and still had a good one seventy-four years until his time expired.
With the coming of cybernetics came some new rules. People could live to unprecedented years; if their heart failed they could go get a synthetic one installed and go about their lives. People started living too long and consequently problems arose. People started taking advantage of exceptionally long life; from economics to social and political control. Unjust leaders’ reigns lasted too long and monopolies were formed from years of working on economic domination. The government, of the US at least, decided that long life was unjust to society. Meetings were held, amendments were made and it was ‘Prohibited by federal law to prolong life beyond the age of one hundred.’ It took nearly half a millennium for the populace to get used to the government coming and essentially killing people at a certain age, but it was eventually accepted and was now the norm.
He remembered back to when he was in grade school. Their textbooks told them of how people used to live, how people used to live to, on average, only their mid-eighties! When cybernetics came along, they wanted to live longer! Humans were greedy at heart. They were given another fifteen years to live, but that wasn’t good enough. They wanted more. Scott was happy to say that, despite the fact that he didn’t want to go to the Retirement Home, he would willingly. He was a good citizen and would abide by the laws that were in place. The people in power weren’t dumb, and the laws were made for a reason.
Scott arrived at his house, a quaint white house in the suburbs with a stone trail leading from the driveway to the front door. Driving up the driveway he saw his Chinese, neighbor Jin Sanahoweveryousayit, he could never get it right, taking out the trash. The car stopped and he got out. “How goes it Jin?”
Jin smacked his hands together, “Not bad, and yourself?”
“Ah, you know how it is: you win some, you lose some.” he shrugged and smiled, “What can you do?”
“Stick it out, take it in stride and try not to punch the guy bossing you around.”
Scott raised his hand, “I’ll drink to that. Talk to you later huh?”
“Yep, see you later.”
Removing his glasses he stood still at the front door for the retinal scan. A blue beam washed across his right eye, up and down, and the metal box made a beep. The door swung open and Mark stepped in. He put his glasses back on and the room became a lot clearer. “Lights!” The room became illuminated at the sound of his voice. Tossing his keys on the counter he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge and grabbed a Coke can out. Mark popped the top and took a swig. Lowering the can his hand suddenly clinched and crushed the can. “Right.” Pop littered the floor. Upon cleaning the sticky mess he headed over to the computer to fix his arm’s glitch. He got on-line to the Cybernetic National’s website. “Let’s see.” His eyes scanned the page. “Ah, there it is.” He exclaimed, clicking on a bright blue button labeled ‘Software’. He clicked on the update section and, peeling back his skin to examine his serial number and entered it. The filed started to download and he sat back in his chair and waited for it to finish. His arm twitched again. He looked down at it, “All in good time.”
A short sound signified the completion of the download. Scott sat up in his seat plugged in a chord that ran from his arm to the computer. He double clicked the file on his desktop and hit ‘Install’ and waited for it to its work. It finished and he pulled the chord out of his arm. He raised his arm and moved his wrist, his fingers and waited to see if it would twitch again. It didn’t. Satisfied, he put back his skin and closed the internet. He leaned back in his chair and thought about the day; it was good to be home from work. He folded his hands behind his head and briefly touched the Watcher installed on the back of his neck.
The Watcher was a small metal cylinder about the size of a quarter implanted into his skin. Everyone had one; at birth they were installed. It was the very first thing to be done, even before the umbilical chord was cut. The Watcher was wirelessly connected to a central network controlled by the government. They used it to keep tabs on people; the feds could monitor your vital signs by using it, among other things.
Upon becoming sick, people could even hook their Watcher up to their personal computer and diagnose their illness. Using this was also how they knew when you hit one hundred and when they needed to admit you to a Retirement Home. Crimes were sometimes even solved by using the Watcher to gain insight into a suspects thinking and sub consciousness. The Watcher was your I.D., your driver’s license, your credit cards. New information was entered via a computer and updated through the data base. Scanning terminals were installed at the fingertips for easier access to personal information such as credit cards.
Some cybernetic replacements were covered by the national health care and before the Watcher were often taken advantage of. Now, while monitoring health, the Watcher could detect self-inflicted injuries. If someone came in for an operation on the government’s tab, the Watcher could admit or deny them the surgery. Heath fraud was quelled successfully. Scott knew all too well about the Watcher and its capabilities; his life revolved largely around it. He worked for the government, the FBI to be specific, and the Watcher was often used to keep track of people on probation or those suspected to be involved in illegal activities. It was one of the best inventions to be created, he thought, next to cybernetics of course, looking at his arm.
He leaned back again and noticed a slight pulsing red light out of the corner of his eye. Turing his head he saw the source of the light: it was his answering machine. He mentally turned on the phone implanted in his brain. It was one of the perks of working as a cop and in turn the government; you usually got the newest and coolest gadgets and the phone just so happened to be one of them. It was implanted on the outside of his brain when he became an FBI agent, roughly six years ago. The phone was synced with his current setup at home, along with the FBI’s system, so he could check his messages from anywhere and could dial someone’s number remotely also. The messages started to play.
A monotone female voice flooded his head; “One new message. Message one.” This time it was another woman’s voice he heard resounding in his mind. It was his girl friend, Sie Wong. He could still envision the day they met; he was at work doing paper work as the result of a bad April Fools day joke, and she walked in. She walked up to his desk holding some papers in her hands. He took a second to catch his breath. She was stunning; shoulder length black hair, slightly curled up at the ends, uncharacteristically long legs for an Asian, (Chinese he later found out). Her brown eyes meeting his she stepped up to the desk and spoke, “I want to become an American.” He couldn’t help but to smile at her naiveté.
“Sorry ma’am, you’re at the wrong place for that. I could though, show you how to get it done.” He suggested. She instantly smiled and her eyes lit up,
“Oh! That would be wonderful! I would greatly appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ve just got to finish up some stuff here and then we can get this all straightened out.” He did his things and they went out to lunch to discuss how to get her affairs on order and become nationalized. He gave her his number “Just in case you have any trouble,” and she called him a few days later, lost and confused. He picked her up and drove her back to her apartment. Things took off after that.
“Hey hon, it’s me. I was thinking we could go and get something to eat tomorrow or something? Maybe see a movie? Anyway, call me when you can. Love ya.”
“End of new messages.” He dialed her number. He let the other line ring until he got the message machine, “Hey, you’ve reached Sie. Leave me a message and your number and I’ll call you as soon as I can.” BEEP.
“Uh yeah, Sie it’s me. I get off early tomorrow so we should defiantly go out. Call me when you get this. Talk to you later.” He hung up.
Scott walked into the next room and sat on the couch. Looking around he spied the remote and angling it at the TV, brought the screen to life. He turned on basketball and watched his favorite team get mercilessly beaten. Aggravated, he flipped off the TV and threw the remote across the couch. He looked at his watch; the date read June 12th, 3555, 1:36 am. It had the 11nth when he started watching the TV. Where does the time go? He got up and checked his messages hoping to find the red bulb once again blinking, but did not. Disappointed he trudged to the bathroom, now feeling the effects of the early hour, and hastily dragged a tooth brush against his teeth. Stripping down to his boxers he collapsed into his bed, blissfully unaware that his slumber would be one of the last periods of happiness that he would experience in a while.

II
Date: 3256 “In other news; China started its launch of a network of satellites into orbit at two o’ clock Eastern Time today. The network has been estimated to cost over 2.3 billion US dollars, although those numbers haven’t been confirmed by Chinese authorities. The purpose of the satellites was revealed in a Chinese press conference today. They were said to be “the newest form of cell phone communication. These satellites will effectively eliminate the problems caused by modern cell phones. They will also be used to transfer data and information via television and the Internet.” Chinese spokespeople say a network of much smaller magnitude has been in use by the military for years and has been proven to work and fulfill the claims.”
Scott rubbed the fatigue from his eyes and sat up in bed. Blinking his eyes he put on his glasses, making his vision much better, and got himself dressed for the day. His work required him to wear a suite jacket and matching pants with a dress shirt underneath. He pulled on his belt and threaded the leather through the belt loops, and then the loops to his holster. Buckling the belt, he grabbed his gun from the drawer next to his bed. Opening another drawer he took out the clip and loaded it. Satisfied, he put the magazine in the Glock and the Glock in the holster. Pulling on his suite jacket he successfully veiled the gun from the average citizen. He hadn’t ever needed to use it, but as an officer he was required to have one and it didn’t bother him to wear it. He had grown up around firearms; they were as natural as breathing.
He fixed himself a bowl of cereal and nearly inhaled it. Scott looked at the clock; it was nearly seven. He needed to hurry if he was going to make it on time. He finished his breakfast and threw the bowl and spoon in the sink. “I’ll clean it later.” He grabbed his keys, locking the front door, and rushed out to his car.
Jumping in he buckled up and backed out of the drive way. He barreled down the road as fast as he legally could. Pedestrians blurred by as his car sped past them. He hit a red light a halted the car. “Come on, come on.” He looked at the clock: 6:54. He could see the complex from his car. The only thing preventing him from getting there was a red light and six minutes. The light turned green and he hit the gas. Two minutes later he arrived in his parking space and got out of his car, clicking the little button on his keys, a slight Beep confirming that it was locked. He headed to the door.
As this was a government facility, security was a lot tighter than other buildings. As he to approach the door he took off his glasses and met the scan with his right eye. The scanner ran over his eye, emitting a blue ray. With a click the scan stopped and the door opened. As soon as the scan stopped the information was sent to a computer that told the higher ups if you were late; Scott had seconds to spare.

III
Date: 3400 “… in other news; the government has concluded its census of the century. The dominating religion was Christianity, only slightly ahead of Buddhist. The top ethnicity that immigrated was Chinese with Mexican in a close second and German…”
He got to his desk and sat down, relieved that he had made it in time. Settling in he took off his jacket and tossed it over his chair and logged on to his computer. He checked his E-Mail and responded to any he deemed necessary and then took a second to relax. Looking out his window he saw the streets filled with cars going about their ways. He heard a knock on the door frame and swiveled around to meet his guest. It was a friend of his: Michael. He was dressed in a blue suite with a red tie, one that Scott didn’t think matched too well. They had met when Scott joined the force and had paired up as partners. Michael had prior military experience in Intelligence for the Marines and coupled with Scott and his interrogation training they made the perfect team for getting answers out of people who thought they would never spill the truth. “What can I do for ‘ya?”
“We’ve got a session at one o’ clock. Some guy suspected for murder. His prints are extremely close to the ones found on the knife but some bug in the system skewed ‘em up a little bit. Not enough to convict him. He, of course, claims he didn’t do it. One o’ clock, room three. Don’t forget.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Michael walked away and Scott began to tidy up his desk.
The lights flickered. Scott looked up at the bulb, a puzzled expression on his face.  They flickered again, and again. Finally, after a fourth spasm from the filament, they went out. Peoples’ voices floated through the halls; voices expressing confusion and, in some cases, frustration. Scot thought to himself; Good thing I wasn’t working on stuff on the computer. He walked out of his office to the dimly lit hallway. People were jogging back and forth, trying desperately to find the source of the problem. He looked to his right and saw his superior, a middle-aged man with sharpened features and a hooked nose that made him slightly resemble the villains in the old cowboy movies. He reached Scott and spoke; “There’s been a power outage.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Scott and his boss were on good terms so he could talk to him like another person, not a superior.
He got a sheepish look on his face, “Yeah, right. Anyway, there’s too much going on here right now, the generator’s broken and we kinda need these people out of our hair. Do you have any interrogations today?”
“I start at one.”
“Alright. Well, why don’t you get out of here until then, clear this place up a little it. You can come back in a little before one. Hopefully we’ll have everything cleaned up by then.”
“Sure thing.” Thankful for his stroke of good luck Scott went back to his office to grab his jacket and left the building. He got into his car and began the drive home.

IV
Date: 3473 “Day three of the nuclear peace talks ended in a way no one predicted. As the United States stated accusations towards Pakistan and reasons against the use and research of nuclear warheads, the Chinese Emperor, Han Hizu, stormed out of the United Nations diplomacy chambers, his advisors in tow. China has not been cooperating lately in the negotiations concerning the regulating of countries’ militaries and outlawing nuclear research. While China has no indication of nuclear testing or research and U.N. officials returned from their inspection a few months ago with the same results, the inspectors were let in only after intense coaxing from neighboring nations. They have also been known to side with countries that are under suspicion concerning military restrictions. Han Hizu has publicly made know his detestation towards the U.N., their regulations and the U.S. specifically. He has listened to the talks and inputted his opinion, forcefully at times, but has never shown a lack of respect to the U.N. during the talks, until now.”
The steady hum of his tires against the asphalt was the only sound to be heard in the town; there were no other cars on the road and nobody outside. Moving down the street, Scott looked at the buildings along side the road; they all seemed dark. The scenario struck Scott as somewhat eerie although he knew it was natural; most people were at work and their lights wouldn’t be on anyway. Still, despite the fact that even he should be at work, and that he had never even been giving the chance to see such desolation in such a familiar place gave him chills. Looking overhead he saw the sky; it was a dark grey and saturated with puffy clouds that only added to the gloomy scene. The windshield wipers started their monotonous movement as the glass sensed the rain begin to strike it. What started as a gentle drizzle took only mere moments later to escalate to torrents of water. The wipers’ movement intensified in a desperate attempt to keep the glass clear enough to see through; they only did the job slightly well. Scott leaned over the wheel and squinted, trying to get a good look at whatever lay ahead of him. His car sliced through the sheets of rain as he tried to keep it in his own lane, hoping he was doing a good job and appreciating the absence of other vehicles.
Water splashed as his car pulled into the drive way to his home. Turning the key he silenced the engine and waited a couple of minutes for the rain to subside. Not only did it not let up, but it was arguably coming down harder now. Deciding not to see if it would get any worse, at least not from his car, Scott prepared himself for a mad dash to the door. He opened the door and sprinted to the house. Luckily he bought a house with an awning else he would’ve gotten even more drenched as he waited for the scan to finish. The blue light clicked off and the door opened. Scott stumbled in.
Luckily, unlike at work, his generator did work and was pumping out enough energy to power the house. He tossed his keys on the counter next to the bowl and pulled off his shoes and socks. He made his way up stairs and put on some new clothes and turned on the TV upon coming back down. The buzz of static flooded the room as he flipped through the stations, only a few coming in. He happened upon a news station and caught the tail end of a breaking story, “The power outage seems to have spanned the entire country. Some fear that this has been an act of terrorism. Riots have broken out) and National Guard troops have been sent into especially bad areas. You are urged to stay in your homes for the time being and gather essential items such as water and…” Scott watched as the TV flashed footage of mobs fighting off police and crowd-control officers launching tear gas into the hordes for a few more seconds then flipped off the TV and went up stairs to get his pistol. “There is no way I’m just gonna stay here. I need to find out what the heck is going on, and check on Sie.” He grabbed his coat and keys and opened the door to head out to his car. He swung open the exit and stopped in his tracks; in the doorway stood Jin.
The rain splattered against Jin as he stood motionless in front of Scott. “Jin, what the heck are you doing here?”
The rain ran down his face. It made its way to his eyebrows, and down to his eyes. The water ran down onto his eyes and Scott could see it trickling down his retina and then his pupil. Jin didn’t blink. He stood there, not moving, then he spoke in a monotone voice that Scott had never come out of his mouth, “We will rise and lead the ways of the future.”
“What?”
Jin lunged at him.
Scott was knocked to the floor and Jin jumped on top of him and grabbed his neck. He felt his fingers tighten around his throat. Scott managed to get out a question, “Jin what are you doing?!” In response, Jin’s fingers only tightened. Scott swung his right arm at Jin’s face. His fist connected and Jin was knocked sideways off of Scott. Scott leaped to his feet and gasped for air, all the while his eyes on the figure sprawled on the floor. Blood trickling down his face, Jin slowly rose. Regaining his former height, he once again jumped at Scott who evaded the attack by side-stepping to the left. Jin crashed into the wall leaving a huge dent. He lay on the ground, not moving; Scott approached with caution. That hit should have knocked him out pretty good. He stood above the crumpled body and looked at him, pondering what could have incurred the assault and if it was somehow connected to the apparently national events that had occurred today.
Jin’s hand thrust out and grabbed Scott’s ankle, bringing him down to the ground.
They rolled around on the floor, each trying to gain the upper hand over the other. They crashed into cabinets and fought into the living room. Jin grabbed a lamp from the side table and slammed it towards Scott. He thrust his right forearm up to absorb the blow. His cybernetic appendage took the brunt of the attack and Scott in turn took his hand and forced it into Jin’s stomach. He staggered back and attempted to catch his breath. Scott drew out his pistol, pointed it at the assailant, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet passed through Jin’s left shoulder and he fell to his knees. Blood cascaded from his wound and soaked the rug along with his clothes. Scott walked up to him and looked at his face; it was contorted in a look of obvious pain. His lips formed a sneer of sorts, a vein bulged from his neck and his eye brows stayed close to his eyes in a stare of anger. Yet despite all of his blatant pain, he did not cry out. He remained as quiet as he was when he first appeared.
This scared Scott.
He grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and made it into makeshift hand cuffs and tied Jin’s hands behind his back. Pulling him to his feet, he slung him into a chair and tied his feet to the chair’s. So much for not working. He closed the gap between their faces and started his interrogation with a gut feeling that this was more than some robbery, “What the heck were you doing? Huh? You think that you can just tackle someone and start choking them? Rolling around their house, wrecking everything, trying to kill them? Huh?”
No answer.
If I keep drilling him, he should crack and tell me what this is really about. This is defiantly something Jin would not do.  “This is highly illegal. I know everything there is to know about the law and this is something that is generally frowned upon. You know that you could go to jail for this right?”
“A cheap price to pay.”
Scott got close to his face, “For what?”
Jin blinked, but did not answer.
“O.K. then. This may make you change your mind.” He grabbed onto Jin’s left shoulder and began to squeeze. His face contorted and he ground his teeth, but he did not yield. Scott squeezed harder, pushing his finger into the wound. Jin’s mouth opened up in a silent scream. Scott let go and a small breath of air escaped Jin’s throat. “For what?” Jin did not answer and Scott moved to his shoulder again.
“For the future.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me!” he spat.
“What exactly do you mean ‘the future’?”
“America is weak, their time has expired.” He sat up in the chair and held his chin up high, “It is China’s era.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You think you are so mighty and omni powerful. You are sorely mistaken. It is our time.”
“For what?”
“It has already begun.” With this he got an evil grin, “Your ignorance is your downfall. You think you are the empire that cannot be toppled, but we have the upper hand in your ‘impenetrable’ country that you will no be able to gain back.”
“What are you talking about?! Tell me!”
“There was never any hope for you. We have started and it will soon be over.”
Scott grabbed his shoulder once again and began applying pressure ferociously, “What the heck are you talking about? What is going on- Wait, did you say ‘we’?” Jin did not respond. “You got people teamed up with you?”
Jin smiled like a hunter who upon seeing his trap, has found that he has ensnared prey, and then fainted. Scott slapped him, trying to get him to come to. He shook his body and started screaming for him to wake up but saw the immense pool of blood soaking his shins and stopped. He got up from his knees and slowly backed up in astonishment. What the heck is going on? There are more of Jin? What do they want? Who are ‘they’? Scott stopped dead in his tracks and his thoughts flashed from the bizarre events that had just unfolded to his girlfriend. “Dear lord: Sie.” He dashed to his car.

V
Date: 3548 “China has gained a new ally that has the rest of the world thinking twice about their intentions. During a meeting yesterday between Chinese Emperor Han Hizu and Pakistani President Ameen Rihad a pact was sealed concerning the trading and selling of technologies, most of which were weapon and military related. The two countries have been engaging in talks for quite some time. Ameen Rihad had made blatant contributions to terrorist cells and bears an unrivaled hatred towards America and its citizens.”
Scott pulled into Sie’s driveway and desperately looked to windows for any sign of life; light shone from behind the glass. He got out of the car and began walking up the stone walkway leading to the front door. The rain had subsided but left the concrete plastered with a slight layer of water. Scott had to walk slowly to avoid losing his footing, silently hoping that taking his time was not taking away from Sie’s. As he neared the entrance he saw that the door was open. His pace quickened as a sickening feeling invaded his stomach. He burst through the door with his gun drawn. “Sie?” he called out, “Are you here?” He slowly walked through the house all the while pointing his pistol in every nook and cranny, searching for an assailant. His head shot to his right as he heard a clatter come from upstairs. He barreled up the stairs, “Hang on! I’m coming!” He burst into Sie’s bed room with his arms outstretch, ready to put a bullet into anyone trying to hurt her. There was Sie, sitting on the floor, packing a suitcase. She looked up at him,
“Oh thank goodness you’re here.” She ran up and hugged him, “I wasn’t sure you were coming. I tried calling but no one answered. You’re O.K. right?” She looked at him, a worried look in her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you alright? Has anyone come in here?”
She suddenly looked confused, “No. Why?”
Scott hesitated, “I walked up and the front door was open and when I got home… I’ll tell you later. Look, we’ve got to get to somewhere safe. There is something really weird going on here.”
“I know. There were all sorts of thing happening on the news. I’m just gonna finish packing and then we can get out of here. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, neither do I.” He tightened his grip on the Glock, “I’m gonna keep watch down stairs, you know, just in case any one tries to come in here.”
“Alright, I’ll be done in a minute.”
Scott walked downstairs, shut the front door and locked it. He closed the curtains and turned off most of the lights. He switched off a lamp and stood back up. He turned around to the sound of running feet to see Sie charging with a baseball bat. She snarled at him and swung the wood at his head. Scott ducked, “What are you doing?!” Her answer was another swing that just barely missed Scott’s jaw. She swung again, the look of a deranged animal on her face. Scott caught the bat in mid-swing with his cybernetic arm, “What are you doing?!” Sie moved in close to him and reached for the Glock in its holster. She pulled it away from his waist and angled it at his head. She backed up, the gun still trained at his head,
“We shall rise up and lead the ways of the future.” She pulled back the slide to make sure there was a round in the chamber and squeezed the trigger.
The bullet seared past Scott’s head as he pushed off of the couch and flew to the right. He landed on his knees and threw the bat. It struck the gun and sent it soaring through the air across the room. They both sprinted towards it. Sie arrived first and pulled the gun to meet Scott. He ducked to the left and simultaneously shot his right hand up to her wrist. He squeezed and she dropped the firearm. Scott caught it in his left hand and brought it up. Sie sprinted towards the kitchen. Scott lifted the gun, put her in his sights, and watched her run into the other room. He could not shoot someone that he loved, even though she had just tried to do the same to him. He crept into the kitchen, the gun at the ready. He rounded the corner and saw Sie on her knees, a large carving knife in her hands. She had an oddly calm look on her face when she met his eyes and spoke, “Where I have failed the others will succeed.” Scott started towards her,
“NO! Wait!”
She pulled the knife across her neck.
Her body slumped to the ground and seconds later Scott’s followed. He crumpled to his knees. The gun hit the floor and he cradled his face in his hands. Tears flowed from his eyes as blood flowed from Sie’s neck. He crawled toward his dead love but stopped short. His legs were too weak. He couldn’t make the rest of the journey. He just lay there, staring at the gruesome scene that had happened in front of his eyes, the sticky liquid slowly creeping towards him. Sobs wracked his body and he went into compulsions of sorrow. He began to wail until his lungs were out of air and his crying stole any oxygen left to have. He sat there, face in hands, wallowing in his pain.

VI
Date: 3551 “Following the unveiling of China’s newest long-range weapon, Han Hizu called for an immediate parade through the streets. The parade featured the military might of China; boasting tanks, marching soldiers and banners proclaiming the Chinese right to the throne of the world. The parade went on for several hours and Hizu issued the order to halt all other activities and participate in the festivities. The whole nation stood on street corners and sidewalks, watching the soldiers march by. The parade ended with a speech from Han Hizu. In it he said quote, ‘China’s time in history has finally come. We are the way of the future of man-kind. We will stop at nothing to claim our rightful place as the leaders of civilization. We will reward those who cooperate, and show no mercy to those who stand in our way. We will walk the lands of the world as kings. We will not relent. We will not stop. We will do what ever is necessary.’ End quote.
The tires whirred across the street at unreal speeds. Scott no longer cared to abide by the law. He leaned forward and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning a ghastly white, and gritted his teeth. He wiped his hand across his eyes to clear the tears from blurring his vision. His mind was a mess.
Jin slamming into the cabinet and glass spilling onto the ground. Sie dead on the kitchen floor. Blood falling from Jin’s shoulder, from Sie’s neck. Jin’s speech, planes crashing into buildings. Tanks rolling along blasting holes in concrete. People shouting and firing guns into the air. The rain streaming into Jin’s unblinking eyes. A bullet whizzing past his head. The brand of the knife in next to Sie; Kohl. The color of the curtains; green.
He shook his head and mentally pushed down the thoughts. He let his law-enforcement training and survival instinct take over, eradicating his mind of unsavory thoughts. He had to get to his work; they would have some idea as to what was going on, and it was a safe place to be.
Look, we’ve got to get to somewhere safe. There is something really weird going on here.”
“I know. There were all sorts of thing happening on the news. I’m just gonna finish packing and then we can get out of here. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, neither do I. I’m gonna keep watch down stairs, you know, just in case any one tries to come in here.”
“Alright, I’ll be done in a minute.” He shook his head again and focused more intently on the road.
He rocketed past the red light that had prevented him from getting to work earlier in the day. “Not twice.” As he pulled into the parking lot of the FBI facilities he noticed the lack of cars there; he was used to seeing more. Apparently most people hadn’t had the same idea of returning after they were sent home. Apparently most people hadn’t had their neighbor attack them. Apparently most people hadn’t watched at their girlfriend killed herself. He squinted his eyes and focused very intently on getting to double doors into the building. He fiddled with the safety on the Glock as he waited for the retinal scan to finish its work. With a beep it granted him access. A robotic voice greeted him as he passed thorough the doorway,
“Good day to you Mr. Tues.”
He ignored the greeting and walked past.
The building was still dark but Scott could see lights flashing around at the end of the hallway. He squeezed the grip of his sidearm and clicked off the safety moving closer to the wall. Walking heel-to-toe like he was taught in training, he approached the end of the hall. He swung his body around to meet whoever was around the corner and crouched, ready to put a bullet in their chest.
“Dear Lord! You scared the crap out of me Scott!” there stood, accompanied by two others, was Michael. His red tie was missing and he no longer wore his suite jacket that he had so shortly ago. In their place he held an M-4 assault rifle. His companions did the same. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”
“Not really.” Scott’s eyes suddenly felt extremely heavy. He struggled to keep them open.
“Oh.” Michael quietly replied. “Follow us. There are a few others of us here were holding up until we get some help.” The flashlights’ ors illuminated the hallway and projected circles of light on the wall as the walked down the corridors. They entered the communications room; people sat in chairs monitoring the radios and others stood or leaned against the wall; in all of their hands were rifles. A stack of extra magazines sat in the corner of the room, making almost as much noise as everyone else in the room. “We’ve gotten some transmissions from the National Guard,” he said, nodding towards one of the radios, “The first came in about two hours ago. They said that a bunch of oriental people had started a riot downtown. A little while after that they said more people showed, and they brought weapons. Not like clubs and stuff; I mean guns. They broke into stores and started raiding everything and making weapons for those who didn’t have any. Then we started getting calls from civilians saying that Asians were attacking neighbors and breaking into houses.”
The bullet headed towards the ground as the slide slid back and she pulled the trigger.
“I mean, it’s great that the generator for the radios worked, but it’s horrible to tell people in trouble that they’re basically on their own. Anyway,” he handed Scott an M-4, “this’ll probably work better than the Glock.” Scott looked down at the pistol and holstered it.
A great flash of light attacked Scott’s eyes and he staggered back from the sudden burst of illumination. People gasped all around the room and worried voices invaded his ears. He put his fingers to his eyes and after a little while peeled them off. In front of him was Michael blinking his eyelids obsessively. He offered a sheepish grin and a brief shrug, “Power’s back.”
Scott managed to bark a short laugh, something he had not thought possible, “Yeah, apparently.” He rose to his feet. Someone, looking out the window, spoke up to the rest of the group,
“Hey, we’re almost the only building with juice.”
Another person walked next to him and looked out the window, “Yeah, pretty much.” He squinted and pulled his head closer to the glass, “What is that… Oh crap.” He turned around and started shouting, “They’re coming!”
“The National Guard?”
“NO! A mob! A huge mob!” People started crowding around the window and murmuring.
Marching down the street towards the building was a horde of people. Scott estimated their numbers to be about fifty. He turned to Michael,
“We have no chance against those odds.”
“We’ve got to give it our best shot.” He backed up from the crowd, “Listen up! Everybody grab some extra ammo! They’re not gonna be able to find the back door so they’ll go to the most obvious place. Now, the front has the scan, so it’ll be a little before they’re able to get through. That’s our advantage. We can let them come to us. Grab ammo, let’s move!” People swarmed over to the ammunition pile and started groping for clips. Scott pulled two extra magazines from the pile and tossed another two to Michael, stuffing his own in his pockets.

VII
Date: 3554
“In a bold move, China initiated an attack against Japan. The strike came during the night, around one in the morning. The President met with his military advisors to discuss a plan of action. President Cambria is well known for wanting to avoid conflict and the meeting turned out in a similar manner, although by a slim margin. Japan is loosely allied with the US but did not send military reinforcements during the Pakistani Conflict. Experts say this may have contributed to the verdict from the meeting. We have more concerning the attack from our Asian correspondent, William Skil. William?
“Yes, the attack came unexpectedly. Planes flew overhead and bombed military instillations as well as civilian establishments. Although Japan has resisted, there does not seem to be too much hope for them. Their troops took a very long time to mobilize and…”
They marched through the halls to the front door. As they neared the door, people dragged desks out from the offices and flipped them over to make barriers to take cover behind. Scott got behind a desk with Michael. He turned to him and slapped him on the back, “Good luck man.”
Michael returned the favor though his eyes looked vacant and didn’t meet Scott’s, “Same to you man, same to you…”
Scott looked around; people sat crouched over, fiddling with their guns. Others had their eyes closed and their lips faintly moved, forming words of prayer. Bearing no religion, Scott pulled back the T-bolt on the M-4 racking a round into the chamber. He felt like that bullet was the closest thing divine intervention that he had.
The mass of assailants moved to the door and tried to get in; they pushed and pulled but the door would not relent, all the while their faces were bathed in azure light as the scanner moved back and forth, trying to get a good read. One of them eventually slammed a shot-gun but into it and it fell broken to the ground. It lay there and was trampled to pieces. They started jamming the guns into the glass, beating it with unparalled ferocity.
Scott tightened his grip on the rifle.
The Asians continued to strike the door and the glass began to warp. They slammed fists, gun butts, make-shift clubs and bats into it with renewed vigor. They were ever close to their prey.
He looked to Michael at his right. He was looking down the sights, steadily breathing in and out, the gun firmly placed against his shoulder. Obviously his military history was prevailing.
Hands wiped at their faces as perspiration dripped into their eyes. Breaths grew sharp and forced. People formed crossed across their chests. Bolts were pulled back. Eyes squinted down the sights and prepared to take human life to save their own.
For a split second, all Scott could hear was the steady tink of tiny shards colliding with the concrete entrance. Light reflected and refracted off of the glass. He sat mesmerized by it; he had seen light glint like that before, as if it were glinting off of a knife…
Then the last splinter came to a rest on the floor and the attackers crashed through the doorway.
Shadows danced on the walls as the muzzle flash illuminated the faces of the defenders. Teeth gritted on both sides as the vanguard took pounds of lead all the while shooting back at the guarders of the building. Scott pulled the trigger and sent a waterfall of bronze cascading over his shoulder. A stray shell from Michael’s gun ejected and hit Scott’s neck. It was searing hot, but he did not notice; he was totally focused. Anything less would mean he would not survive. He continued to pour countless rounds into the wave of people assaulting them. With a click Scott removed the clip protruding from his gun and replaced it with a full one. Pulling back the bolt he raised the gun to his shoulder and lined up the sights with one of the attacker. He squeezed the trigger and his target fell to the floor. A person to his right fell and, like the empty shell, he ignored them and only thought of them as a number. Now there’s only ten of us. They continued to storm through the opening.
A huge explosion rocked the building and everyone fell over. Scott struggled to his feet, grabbing his rifle, and saw lights flashing outside the door. The Asians turned and looked over their shoulders and those defending looked the same way. A faint whistle went through the air and was followed by another blast. Rubble and bodies went flying. Scott looked out the door and into the parking lot. He saw figures running back and forth. The stopped looked towards the building. From their muzzle flash he could make out helmets and camouflage. The National Guard had finally arrived.
Someone stood at the back of the hallway closely hugging the cover of the intersecting walls, “Hey!” She motioned and shouted to the rest, “The Guard says they want us to get somewhere else. They’re gonna hit the entrance with the tanks! We need to get out and away from the hallway! They’re giving us two minutes!” With that she disappeared behind the wall. People started getting up and running the gauntlet to sanctuary; although the National Guard was drawing a lot of the fire, a few bullets continued to streak through the hallway’s air. Scott looked at Michael, “Man, let’s get out of here.”
“Affirmative.”
“On three; one… two…,” he extended two fingers and then a third, “THREE!” They shot up from their prone position and bolted out of the reach of the tanks’ guns. Suddenly, Scott collapsed on the ground. Michael heard him grunt and whipped around,
“SCOTT!”
He struggled to get up. Tightening his hand on the barrel of the gun, he attempted to use it as a crutch. His legs resembling a plucked guitar string, he rose to his feet, only to be struck down again. Scott plummeted to the ground and, this time, did not get up.

VIII
“Last night, American citizens suddenly turned on the populace. The attack came unexpectedly and without warning. All of the culprits seem to be of Asian decent, although no single ethnicity has of yet been confirmed. The citizens began to attack their neighbors, friends and anyone else who they came across. Within a short time of the attack, the assailants formed groups and began to rove the streets looking for people to attack. It is strongly advised that you stay in your homes and barricade any entrances: doors, windows, anywhere someone could get into the house. It is also advised that you arm yourselves…”
“It has been two days since the sudden attack from what has now been identified as the Chinese populace. After an emergency session with congress,, the President has declared war on China. Apparently, during the meeting, some highly classified information was disclosed that helped make the martial decision…”
“Around one o’ clock this morning, American and British troops broke the Chinese borders following bombing runs. No further details have been disclosed at this time. We’ll continue to update you as soon as we get information. Meanwhile; on the home front the battle continues against the former Chinese citizens. There has been no inclination as to China sending additional troops to help their fighters here but the National Guard, along with helping defend and secure the countryside, has set up defenses spanning all the borders…”
“American and British troops took the capitol of China early this morning. While the Emperor was not found, several of his advisors were and have been interrogated. They revealed that the Chinese citizens were controlled by the government and were, quote, ‘turned on’…”
“The system that was used to initiate the attack was revealed today. It seems that a satellite system was installed some 300 years ago under the guise of a new form of communication. It was implemented by Emperor Han Hizu. He has been feeding the American population with his ‘sleepers’ close for the whole time he held his title, close to 300 years, and is possible that he used his influence with the prior Emperor to start his infiltration even before he was in office. It is unknown how the ‘sleepers’ were initiated, but experts and military officials say as the troops push further into China and discover new sources of intelligence, the answer is not far away.”
“It has been confirmed after scientific testing that the Watchers installed in the Chinese insurgents were the ignition source for their simultaneous attack. The Watcher is implemented in all but four countries and is used for many things, all most designed for the betterment of society. Apparently Han used the cybernetic industry and the consequential use of Watcher units to take control of anyone who had been installed with one. With the Watcher being directly connected to the brain to properly control cybernetic enhancements, Hizu drafted, whether willingly or by force, various software engineers to write a program that could control the mind and actions of the one who bore the Watcher. In a monopoly of the cybernetics industry and a highly classified software engineering program, Hizu quietly brainwashed the Chinese population and initiated the attack, against their will, at the time he dubbed right. Chinese citizens continue to fight both here and in China, against their own free will…”
“Late last night, American troops secured the top-secret military site where the software was written to control the Watchers.. It was apparently a treasure-trove of valuable intelligence and will probably prove to be pivotal in the war.”
“With information found at the ‘Loyalty Facility’, troops have located and deactivated the position that was transmitting commands to the satellite system and then to the sleepers. At two o’ clock today Chinese citizens stopped fighting and looked around to find themselves somewhere else from where they were months ago, and without a clue as to what had happened. As soon as they were ‘deactivated’ they began to flee and many of the defenders gave chase, killing those who were essentially innocent. The news is being spread that the invaders have been quelled and that the assault on the country is over…”
“We come to you with a breaking story. Details are sketchy at this time but it has been confirmed that the Emperor Han Hizu has been captured.  Hizu was found barricade in a bunker sometime last nigh although we can’t be sure of the time or location. He has been taken into American custody and moved to a confidential location to undergo interrogation.”
“Following the interrogation and confession of Emperor Han Hizu a United Nations meeting has been called for. The representatives are expected to meet within the week.”
“Resulting in the UN meeting yesterday, Han Hizu has been given a sentence; he has been condemned to death under the grounds of ‘crimes against humanity.’ His hanging is scheduled for sometime next month…”

IX
Scott drove down the street, trying to ignore the blatant signs of the struggle that had happened only half a year ago. He passed a large facility and quickly turned his head; it was one of the ‘Processing Camps’ that the Chinese were taken to. There they were supplied with a new, American, Watcher. But it wasn’t that easy; he constantly heard the horror stories about some of the men who ran the camps. They couldn’t shake their prejudices about any one who was Chinese and treated them like they were scum and still the enemy, even though it was explained that it was not by their hand that they attacked. Their superiors looked the other way.
The Chinese had become the lowest in American eyes, and all because of a few men with a distorted outlook on the human life. He turned on the radio, “American troops continue to battle the Chinese resistance. A new leader has taken over the position of Emperor and urges them to not give up the fight. Military analysis George-” he flipped it off; he was sick of hearing the same thing. He pulled into work.
Scott sat at his desk and began doing some simple tasks. The first bullet that had hit him while he tried to escape the hallway not three feet away had grazed his right calf and the second had hit his back. Miraculously, both had fully healed and he only suffered a slight limp. His assistant walked in, “Sir, you’ve got an appointment at one o’ clock.”
Scott waved his hand, “Yeah thanks. I’ve got it.” The assistant nodded and continued down the hallway. Scott thought about the assistant’s name; Colman. Kohl. He was wearing an emerald shirt. Green. Scott let out a sigh. A sigh. Sie. His head drooped and he grew silent. Everything around him faded: all sounds, all sights. Scott squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight the inevitable...
Only the bullet wounds had healed.