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  "President Ford, for many years we've known of your secret death squads. We've watched them lawlessly roam the globe trying to eliminate scientific progress not shared or known by your selfish and dangerous country.

  “For years we have watched and allowed you to do this. And, we have killed many.”

  "Prime Minister, what you accuse is most severe. Severe and unwarranted. Global ramifications from going down this path could be extreme."

  “Some were taken alive,” Talhir continued. “They were interrogated to the utmost extent. As you would expect of soldiers of their degree, their resistance was great. But ultimately not enough to prevent your secrets from becoming known.”

  "Again, Prime Minister..." Ford swallowed hard trying not to let any emotion show. “We only became aware of what happened just a short time ago…"

  "The J.G.U. will no longer stand by and allow your country to doom the entire planet to extinction!" Talhir interrupted again. By now his voice was almost a scream.

  "Before we go any further, Prime Minister, I will acknowledge the existence of U.S. operatives on your side of the globe,” Ford said through gritted teeth. “Espionage agents only. Not assassins. Their missions are for information-related purposes only.

  “The existence of the outpost where this ‘incident’ took place has also been known to us. But we were not responsible for its destruction. And what the United States people demand to know is the reason why a scientific laboratory dedicated to technological research was being guarded by an armed regiment. It was not licensed with any of the global scientific registries. Legally it did not exist, and heavy armaments were harbored there. There was every reason for it to cause us great alarm and suspicion. So forgive me for the moment if I don't completely embrace your expected sympathies for this loss."

  "Your operatives are a flagrant violation of global treaty!" Talhir's face was an explosion of maddened fury.

  "We believe, Prime Minister, that the installation was a secret scientific military outpost not sanctioned by any global treaty," this time Ford interrupted trying to regain control of the conversation. "You are in as much violation as we are. The people of the United States further believe that this outpost is one of many breaching numerous embargo treaties drawn between the J.G.U. and the United States. Violation of these agreements compromises the security and safety of our citizenry. And we will not stand for this. I can't say I'm sorry to see that it went."

  "President Ford!" Talhir roared. "You tell us why a squad of American assassins found its way to our side of the world!"

  Ford became connivingly silent. Faulken and Baldwin stood behind him looking as if they were waiting to jump into a street fight. Sweat dripped from the pale skin near the tops of both their foreheads.

  "Mr. President," Talhir continued. "The United States is an aggressive and dangerous country. Your belligerence in this conversation is an even greater example of our fear. We believe your stance on dome technology is both reckless and irresponsible. This world should be sharing technological secrets. Not hoarding them.

  “We also believe that a government such as yours that stands idly by and watches its own people die on its very own soil is totally lacking in respect for human life. This lack of respect is dangerous to the existence of this planet, and for this reason, we believe that the government of the United States should be removed from the face of the Earth. The only way this planet will survive the threats of the depleting ozone is through a cooperative global technological effort.

  “Since you will not share your ideas, our government has been in great debate for many years and finally agreed on a course to act.”

  The room again fell completely silent.

  “We intend to come get them. And take them from you through the use of all force necessary. The United States people have brought this upon themselves.”

  Ford felt his heart drop to the floor.

  “Watch what you threaten, Prime Minister," Ford tried to make his voice more forceful and intimidating. "You are beginning to breach all points of global diplomacy and international protocol that my patience will tolerate. I advise you…"

  “President Ford, for these horrendous crimes, the people of Japan's Great Union denounce and condemn the United States. On your government and your people…we declare war. We will not stop until your reckless ideas concerning the existence of life on this dying planet are permanently altered or removed.

  “President Ford, prepare as you must. Attack is imminent. For many years we have debated this day. Due to what everything has finally become, we see no other way.”

  The holovid blinked out.

  Ford stood motionless at the center of the room. Behind him, Baldwin crossed to the couch and desk where he originally sat. With delicate touches, he activated the command console embedded in its surface. Blue lights flashed across his eyes while the system brought itself to life.

  Faulken moved to sit again before the presidential desk while Ford slipped into a small door at the side of the room. Besides the quiet sounds coming from Baldwin's command screen, a foreboding silence dropped again across the tension-filled room.

  Ford closed the door to his personal lavatory behind him. For the moment, it sealed him away from everything that had just occurred. Holding his tie against his chest, he bent into the porcelain and vomited violently. His entire body shook from the nausea and stress.

  Ford closed the lid, huddled his legs against his body and contemplated the decision he now had to make. In the confined space of the small bathroom, he decided there was no other course of action to take. He forced himself to try and see past the bitterness and rage he felt for ultimately being thrust into this decision and took a moment for his mind to register the responsibility he was now about to undertake.

  Ford grabbed a space along the wall and hauled his body up. He faced the mirror and threw cold water on his face. He tried to control the shake that racked his bones. He didn't recognize the man he saw before him. The image looked sick and old. Far from the man who ultimately could be deciding the entire world’s fate. And ordering the country’s military to begin killing its own.

  The people living on the outside were dying. It was a point no one could contest. Unleashing Plan Zero would fend off the J.G.U. attack and remove them forever as a superpower threat. It would also clear the lands necessary to make way for new dome and technological constructions.

  And it would put to final rest the people living their slow tortured deaths on the outside.

  Ford questioned the man in the mirror as being the one able to set this in motion.

  He thought of the beam cannon technology in place if the country survived the war. It would pave the way for healthier citizens to repopulate the United States. The radiation disease would cease to exist, because everyone would be protected. Not just the select few. The United States would regain its position as a leader in technology and commerce and become strong once again.

  Ford knew this would only happen over a course of many years. More than he would ever see in his lifetime. But it would happen.

  If the plan was successful.

  But the plan itself was one giant risk. A risk in which the whole planet, not just the United States, could pay an ultimate price.

  Ford grabbed a towel and wiped his face dry. He pulled out a comb from inside a drawer and tried to calm his wild hair down to its side. Quickly, he slapped toothpaste across his teeth to lessen the smell of dried vomit in his throat and then straightened his tie. He turned around to put on his suit coat before opening the door and stepping out.

  No one in the room made a sound.

  Ford looked across the room to Baldwin and Faulken both sitting in front of his desk. He strode briskly and with purpose over to them and eased into his chair.

  Clasping his hands across its surface, he stared deeply into their eyes. Both steadily returned his gaze, though neither dared to speak.

  "How are the people doing?" Ford asked them. "Has anything rea
lly changed over the past few years?"

  "They’re dying," Baldwin said evenly. "Our world is falling away. Food production is down and pretty soon the mortality rate will catch up. The people on the outside will be too sick and diseased to reproduce, and they will have nothing to eat. In the end, sir, there will be no one left out there. The situation is beyond anything we can prevent or alter."

  The President nodded, unfolded his hands and rested them apart on the desk.

  "Alright gentlemen, today is the day we all hoped would never come," he said sedately. "That day is here. Start implementing Plan Zero. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to make it ready. It is to be initiated in full force."

  Faulken and Baldwin both nodded wordlessly. They then stood and walked out of the room.

  When they were gone, Ford lowered his face into his hands and rested his forehead across his desk.

  In a brief prayer, he begged for forgiveness for what he had just done.

  Chapter 8

  Kirken stood alone in the parking lot for a few minutes waiting for the rage to leave his body. He waited there a long time.

  Before his children had completely disappeared from sight up the street, he ran to rejoin them.

  He was surprised to see how alive the downtown shopping area was with activity. Crowds of diseased people jostled around him while he jogged the short distance to where Brandon and Mel waited for him two blocks ahead.

  The sight of some of them made him physically sick. Their bodies were covered everywhere with sores and lesions. Their faces ranged from bright pink to brown to blistered and to white. He didn't see anyone that didn't show some signs of radiation poisoning.

  The heat was almost unbearable. Despite the protection of his dark glasses, his eyes burned from the sun glare. Every building seemed to smoke, and everywhere he looked something was either chipped, cracked or crumbling to the ground.

  Kirken hated the outside.

  Still a block away from where his stepchildren waited for him, the holovid strapped to his belt beeped twice. Kirken slowed to a walk and then stopped when he saw the flashing blue lights indicating a priority message was coming in.

  "Commander Kirken," he identified himself to the holovid's small screen.

  He leaned against one of the crumbling storefronts while waiting for the sender's image to settle in.

  "John."

  Kirken was surprised to see the concerned expression of his physician friend, Jack Everson, on the screen.

  "Yeah, Jack. What is it? I'm about to go eat with my kids."

  "There’s been a recall, John," Everson said gravely. "All personnel on the outside are being ordered back. You have to come back right now."

  "Recall?" Kirken questioned taking a quick glance up the street. Brandon and Mel had turned around and were walking back toward him. "Not for me. I'm not coming back, Jack. Recall or not. I'll be there in a couple of days."

  Kirken started to close the holovid. Everson's nearly pleading face stopped him before he did.

  "It’s an emergency medical recall, John," Everson said tripping noticeably on his own words. "We need to haul everyone back in for health assessments."

  "That's bullshit, Jack," Kirken said trying to read the expression on his friend's face. "Tell me what the hell is going on. There's never been a recall before."

  Everson didn't respond.

  "I'll check in with you when I get back." Kirken tried to close the holovid again. “You can give me my health check then.”

  “John," Everson's voice became more urgent. "A dome wide epidemic has broken loose and up to now is still not contained. Lockout conditions are being implemented. If you do not return within the specified time, the domes will be sealed permanently, and you will be forced to finish your life outside. Your dome citizenship will be revoked."

  "What?"

  "It's that bad, John. The doors are slamming shut. Come back in. We need you here."

  "Why wasn't I informed by my unit?"

  "They're not informing those on leave. I'm just passing on to you what I heard myself."

  "Jack, what the hell is going on?"

  "Just come home," Everson warned. "While you still can."

  The holovid screen faded to black as the transmission ended. Kirken quietly reattached it to his belt and looked towards Brandon and Mel. They were almost to him.

  Everson's whole message was odd. There hadn't been a dome wide epidemic in years. In all the time he had lived within the domes, he had never heard of a complete personnel recall. He knew something was not right. Yet despite how much the guilt stabbed uncomfortably in his heart, he still knew he wasn't quite ready to give up life in the domes.

  Brandon and Mel finally reached him. Kirken looked sadly into both of their eyes knowing that he would have to return.

  "Why did you stop?” Brandon asked noticing Kirken’s stare. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?"

  "I need to report back," Kirken told them sidestepping an even more sickly looking group of citizens wandering past.

  "Goddamn it," Brandon swore softly and spit on the sidewalk. "Now? Now you’re going to leave. Why do you even bother to come here at all?"

  Kirken ignored Brandon's sharp comments and looked over at his stepdaughter. She said nothing to voice the disappointment that was very obvious across her face.

  "It's not my decision," Kirken defended. "It's a facility-wide recall. I have no choice."

  "It doesn't matter to me," Brandon said the anger now leaving his voice.

  Apathy colored by a slight tinge of remorse had replaced his anger and bitterness. His shoulders relaxed when he turned around. The glare in his eye, however, did not lessen.

  "I just know Mel’s been looking forward to seeing you. It’s been a long time."

  "Brandon…," Kirken began.

  Brandon turned and walked away. Kirken stared after him while he moved away from them down the street. He didn’t turn back around.

  Kirken turned his gaze back down to Mel. She looked at him and smiled. It almost covered the sad hurt very evident behind her eyes.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and was about to apologize again when a loud "crack" ripped through the still heat that hung in the stifling air.

  "What the hell was that?" Brandon asked slowly looking around the street and then turning back to where Kirken and Mel stood.

  Crack! Crack!

  Two more loud popping sounds echoed through the decomposing buildings that enclosed the city streets.

  Kirken's arm dropped reflexively to the Sunszk 3150, one of the most powerful hand weapons made in or outside the domes, concealed beneath his shirt. He stepped in front of his daughter and backed her towards the side of one of the storefronts.

  The people milling about the area stood motionless at the noise. Like Kirken and Brandon, their eyes darted around seeking its source.

  The skin crawled at the back of Kirken’s neck. And for a reason he did not yet know, he released the safety on his weapon.

  With Mel trailing close behind, Kirken walked over to Brandon. Both cupped their hands to their eyes and stared toward the far end of the decomposing street.

  In the distance, dark figures approached from behind the sun’s glare. The people walking around scattered slowly before them. Their movements were coordinated and pronounced. Nearly twenty in all, they strode purposefully through the middle of the street.

  Kirken watched in horror while one of them near the front of the group raised his hand. At the signal, the rest broke from the formation and spread across the street and onto the sidewalks.

  "What the hell?" Kirken said under his breath and continued to stare.

  Brandon and Mel stood rigidly next to him on the sidewalk and watched them move steadily towards them past the storefronts and through the curious few of the remaining crowd.

  A woman wandered from the door of a nearby building and stood in front of them causing the entire group to stop. The sounds of her voice drifted lazily through th
e air while she faced them. A slight scared edge colored her tone. Even from where Kirken stood, he could see her body shake slightly.

  One of the figures raised an object in his fist to her forehead. In the same instant, her body crumpled to the ground. The single shot echoed for what seemed like an eternity through the still air.

  Kirken heard his daughter gasp.

  A second figure next to the first bent and picked up her body and placed it gently on the sidewalk out of the street. The rest continued to move ahead.

  Others came from the storefronts at the sound of the shot. One threw a brick into the group knocking one of the figures in the head and collapsing him to the ground.

  More gunfire ripped through the air. Just at the edge of the sidewalk, the man who threw the brick jerked violently sideways and fell in a motionless heap.

  Kirken and his stepchildren watched in stunned disbelief. Kirken blinked his eyes against the ever-increasing harshness of the sun’s glare. The figures were now less than fifty feet from where they stood.

  "Those are goddamn soldiers," he said swallowing hard and feeling his stomach drop to his feet.

  He put his arm on Brandon and Mel's shoulders and pulled them slowly back towards the door of the nearest storefront. He scraped his feet gently backwards until his outstretched hand brushed across its latch.

  He nudged it gently open and was about to pull them inside after him when one of the soldiers closest to them looked up. He motioned towards them with his weapon. Three others standing next to him quickly raised their own.

  "Down!" Kirken screamed. The door behind them shredded instantly into splinters and dust.

  Kirken drove his shoulders into Brandon’s back and shoved him down hard behind a car parked at the curb. In the same motion, he tackled Mel from behind as automatic weapons fire exploded around them.

  Mel's face smacked against the cracked pavement, and blood spewed from her lip. Kirken rolled his large frame off her thin shoulders while she struggled to breathe.

  The car’s four tires exploded with a loud bang. Glass and obliterated metal showered down on all sides. Kirken clutched Mel’s hand until the shooting finally stopped.