The Construction Squad filed into a small boardroom with some other high-skill team members. The leadership - a sheriff, a doctor, a priest, and Moira - sat around a baby-faced computer engineer playing with a radio. Moira spoke into the receiver. "General Eastford, are you there?"

"I'm here, Moira," a man with a British accent said on the other end of the line. "Voice is coming through fine. We're working on getting a backup supply of power, but gasoline is limited for the generators. We'll need to make this quick."

"Right. I've got my Construction Squad here. I haven't briefed them yet."

"Understood. Gentlemen, can you hear me?" the man’s voice said. It was gruff, and I reasoned he was either very old or very tired.

"The assembled Ladies and Gentlemen," Lee corrected, "can hear you loud and clear."

General Eastford cleared his throat. "Of course. My apologies. The situation in London is dire. As it stands we have about 30,000 people on our rock. In the three square miles of London that were - erm, transported - we anticipate we only have a few days of non-perishable food left for the survivors. After that, it's famine. We need you and our men - and women - here to construct something that can send resources over, and establish a line of communication that doesn't rely on radio. Understood?"

"Yes sir," we said, all at once.

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"People will start going hungry in three days. Until then, we're going to try and keep this radio line working so that you all can figure something out. Meanwhile, our respective armies and politicians are going to try and find a solution to this Russia debacle. Affirmative?"

"Yes sir," we said again.

"Wait a second," said Lee, "how did this happen? Ever since the initial warning message, we haven't heard anything. Who dropped the first bomb? What's going on back on Earth?"

General Eastford paused. "It's complicated. No one knows who sent the first missile. Moscow and Chicago were obliterated back to back. Then there was a stand off for a few days, and then there were peace talks. There wasn't any retaliation, but Chicago and Moscow were both cinders - millions outside the city cores died from radiation. We thought it was going to cool down, that we would avoid mutually assured destruction - and then China nuked London."

"China? What did they have to gain?" I asked.

"Who knows? The whole thing stinks of shit. I have a feeling someone else is pulling the strings."

Brigg looked at me and mouthed aliens. I ignored him.

"Oh, shite. You've got to be kidding me," the General said. He sounded as though he pulled away from the receiver, growing more distant. And there was a commotion from behind the General's voice - another voice, and general shuffling. "You're certain?" he said to someone. "For fuck's sake."

"What is it sir?" Moira asked. She shouldered out Lee as she leaned into the microphone.

"Another city just showed up. It's Beijing. And they're about half a mile from Moscow."