“Wait, it’s leaving!” Jordan shouted, which prompted everyone to look at the sky.
Everyone but Oliver congregated outside in the shade and passed the sniper rifle between themselves. For the last six hours, they took shots at the craft until they ran out of ammo. His brother sequestered himself in his workshop after Blake refused to allow him a turn. In response, he huffed off and stated he had more important things to work on.
Jordan snarked that Oliver’s healing potion had been an epic failure, and he hadn’t been seen since. Unfortunately, their attempts to shoot down the craft were as unsuccessful as Oliver’s potion.
When the bullets either failed to penetrate the craft or had no visible effect on it, Blake tried his bow. It also failed spectacularly. In the end, they resigned themselves to watch the strange craft while they sipped beer in their reclining chairs. They passed the time by discussing their impending doom.
Within seconds of Jordan’s exclamation, the UAP was nowhere to be seen.
“This might be your chance,” Brent suggested to Blake. “It looks like the helicopters are already coming back. You might be able to reach the Ursa portal before they get here.”
“It could be a trap,” Peter warned.
Blake shook his head as he slipped his arms through his oversized back and grabbed his weapons. “I have to risk it. If that thing comes back after it refuels, or whatever it needs to do, we’re screwed.”
“Message us the second you’re safe,” Donna ordered.
“Will do!” he nodded and dashed toward the wall. Blake waited to activate Alacrity in case his father was correct, and it was a trap. Regardless, he was atop the wall in less than a minute. He leapt off it without stopping and sprinted along the road.
So far, so good.
By the time his feet hit the main road, he could hear helicopters in the distance. They were headed directly towards him.
It’s gonna be tight.
Since the Black Manta had yet to return, he activated Alacrity to double his speed. A few minutes later, he raced past the grocery store and entered the woods. That was when he heard the missiles.
Blake immediately teleported forward twenty feet. A moment later, a blast wave hit him, and he barely kept his feet. He activated Alacrity once again, but saved his last Spatial Step charge. Blake would need it to reach the portal.
Twice more, the helicopters released their missiles. Blake barely stayed ahead of them. Finally, he reached the temporary wall, which surrounded the government compound, and leapt over it, just as his second Spatial Step charge became available.
Suddenly, the helicopters stopped their attacks.
Blake glanced around at the soldiers within the compound as he sprinted toward the boom lift beneath the portal. Their rifles followed him, but they refrained from firing. He was curious why the attacks had ceased, but not enough to stop and ask.
Instead, he used a Gale assisted jump to reach a height of thirty-five feet, and then used both charges of his Charged Guided Spatial Step. A moment later, he was within the void.
I made it.
Blake chose to only increase the difficulty once to level three. While he was confident he could complete a level four Ursa scenario, it would be faster and safer to run lower level scenarios back to back. In the end, he would receive almost as much nano, without the increased risk.
He could not afford to exit the portal injured.
Blake was dropped into a desert on the Ursa planet, and contacted his mother to inform her of his success. She expressed her relief, and informed him that the helicopters now hovered above The Dome.
An hour later, just after Blake found and killed his second Ursa, his mother contacted him.
Donna Summers: Blake, it’s back.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: The Black Manta?
Donna Summers: If that’s what it’s called, yes. The helicopters left about five minutes before it arrived. Brent thinks whatever propulsion it uses will disrupt other aircraft, so they have to keep their distance.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I assume it’s attacking the shield again?
Donna Summers: Yes. How long until you complete that scenario?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I don’t know exactly, but if I’m lucky, another hour. Why?
Donna Summers: Because I’m still not sure it’ll be enough. Repairing the shield seems to burn about thirty mega-nano an hour. Jessica transferred everything in her treasury to us, and quite a few people donated their personal funds. Even Oliver donated.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Well, hopefully in an hour, you’ll get another fifty. Then I can start another scenario.
Donna Summers: That may work for a while, but you need to rest sometime.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I don’t need as much sleep with my Physical Stamina.
Donna Summers: Then why were you yawning this morning?
Blake refrained from answering his mother’s pointed question. Instead, he said goodbye and insisted he needed to get back to the hunt.
----------------------------------------
After three days of constant fighting, Blake was barely conscious.
He had run scenario after scenario, and could not keep up with the drain on their treasury. Even with only two hours of sleep a day, it was still not enough.
There might be only fourteen hours left until the apocalypse, but the treasury was almost empty, and he knew there was no way they would make it. Blake contemplated increasing the difficulty to level four, but when he considered the countless mistakes he had made due to exhaustion, he eliminated that option.
Maybe if I started off with level fours…
Blake rubbed his eyes and contacted his mother through holo-chat.
“You look horrible,” Donna said, shocked. “What happened?”
Shit! She wasn’t supposed to see me.
For the last couple of days, Blake connected with audio only. When asked why he hid his appearance, he lied and said his pants were ripped, and he was indecent. Unfortunately, in his fatigued state, he forgot to disable the video.
“Nothing happened, I’m fine,” Blake lied.
“Blake, your face is covered in blood, your armor’s in tatters, and your left eye is closed shut! How can you possibly say you’re fine?!” she demanded.
“I will be fine in a couple of hours,” he corrected his prior statement. “I just need to give Regeneration time to work.”
“If you don’t get some real sleep, you’re going to get yourself killed,” she warned him.
Blake yawned and then disagreed. “There’s no time. The best I can do is a couple of hours while I heal.”
“You need more than a couple of hours,” his mother admonished. She then took a deep breath and said in a pained tone, “Blake, even if you kill yourself trying to tackle these scenarios… It won’t matter. The treasury will be empty in just a few hours.”
Blake squeezed his eyelids closed.
“This isn’t going to work,” she said softly. “We need to find another way.”
He snorted. “Short of shooting that thing down, I can’t think of a single thing that’ll work.”
“Can’t you just use your spells to take it down?” After a second, she added, “As long as you get at least six hours of sleep first.”
Blake laughed. “If only it was that easy.”
“Let’s work the problem,” Donna suggested. “Why can’t you shoot it down?”
Blake yawned once again and rubbed his eyes. “It's protected somehow. It's got some kind of shield that won’t let the bullet through, or my arrows.”
“Is it over the whole thing, or just the bottom?”
“I don’t know, it’s like a thousand feet up, I can’t exactly shoot it from above,” he said dryly.
“What if Jessica chartered a helicopter?”
Blake snorted. “No one would be crazy enough to fly me around. Besides, they would just shoot it down.”
“With what?” his mother asked. “Brent said the antigravity field stops other helicopters from getting close. I bet it stops missiles, too.”
Seriously? Antigravity? What is this, Star Journey?
Rather than point out how ridiculous human built antigravity tech was, Blake poked a hole in her plan. “How is my helicopter supposed to get that close if it stops theirs?”
His mother threw up her hands. “I don’t know! I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“I know, I know,” he replied. “I just can’t think straight right now. I need a nap.” Blake then laughed. “About the only plan I can think of right now is to skydive out of an airplane and land on top of it.”
“Would that work?” she asked, curious.
“Of course, not…” he trailed off.
Would it actually work? I can Spatial Step through whatever field protects it, and get rid of my momentum at the same time.
After a moment of thought, he replied. “If I could get really far above it, probably, but I don’t see how that’s possible.”
Donna grinned excitedly. “Really?”
I just told her it can’t happen, why is she excited?
“Mom, there’s no way a pilot’s going to fly over military airspace. At best, they’ll go to jail when they land. At worst, they’ll get shot down.”
“If you’re serious about this working, then I’ll make it happen,” she promised. “If I get you that plane, can you take that thing out?”
Blake took a deep breath, which turned into a yawn, and tried hard not to roll his eyes. “Yes.”
“Then get some sleep,” she ordered. “I’ll take care of it, and I’ll have a plane ready for you when you wake up.”
Blake laughed. “In two hours?”
“Six,” she corrected his assumption.
“I can’t wait that long,” he reminded her. “Our nano’s almost gone.”
“Blake, no matter how hard you work yourself, it won’t be enough. We’re going to run out early no matter what. Just get a good night’s sleep, and we can try your plan in the morning.”
“Maybe we should just surrender,” Blake mumbled.
“Do you trust Warner not to have you killed the second you leave The Dome?” his mother asked. “You’re a threat, and you made him look like a fool. He didn’t address the killing of his own soldiers. People like him are petty and care more about their pride than their future.”
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Yeah, she’s probably right.
He rubbed his eyes and once again yawned.
“Fine, wake me up in six hours,” Blake capitulated. “I might as well face the end well rested.”
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Donna Summers: Blake, are you awake yet?
Huh?
Blake sleepily rubbed his eyes as he slowly woke. After a moment, when he remembered his mother’s promise, he replied.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I am now. Did you get that crazy airplane pilot?
Donna Summers: Maybe, will a helicopter work instead?
Is she serious?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: I don’t know, it depends on how high they can fly.
Donna Summers: Give me just a minute, let me talk to Jessica.
Almost ten minutes passed as Blake fully woke up, ate breakfast, and emptied his bladder.
Donna Summers: Jessica says it can reach about eight thousand feet, maybe ten thousand if they push it. Is that high enough?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: It might be. If you’re serious, it’s at least worth a shot.
Donna Summers: And you’re sure you won’t get hurt by the fall?
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: As long as I have a teleport available, I’m safe, no matter how high it is.
Donna Summers: Then meet Jennifer at the Rez casino parking lot in an hour.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Wait, Jennifer? You mean Jennifer Taylor? Why is she going to be there? Why is she involved in this at all?
Donna Summers: I may have promised her exclusive interviews and a spot for her and her family and friends in our faction.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: But why do we need her specifically?
Donna Summers: She knew a pilot that’s a Domer. He’s ex-military, and the only one willing to do this for us.
Lord Blake Summers, Scion of Humanity: Whatever. If this actually works, she can have as many interviews as she wants.
Blake said goodbye to his mother, and she wished him luck. The next hour passed slowly. He even contacted his brother, who informed him of his success with the healing potion. According to Oliver, it sped up healing by a factor of three hundred for an entire hour. Unfortunately, it did not cure him of Parkinson’s disease.
Finally, the hour passed. After he refreshed his Improved Flame shield, and collected his bow, he raced through the portal. As before, when he exited the void, the boom lift remained, and the soldiers on guard refrained from firing on him.
Why aren’t these guys trying to kill me?
Blake shoved the errant thought from his mind and fled the area. He raced through the woods, found the main road, and ran along it unmolested. After a few miles, he even began to hope.
Maybe Brent’s right. Maybe the helicopters can’t get within a few miles of the UFO.
Ten minutes later, he reached the casino parking lot. He was surprised no helicopters pursued him, but he was not going to question his good luck. As promised, a helicopter idled on the pavement, its blades still active.
I can’t believe they actually got it here!
The door to the helicopter opened, and Jennifer Taylor stuck her head outside it. “Blake! Come on in!”
He shrugged and climbed into the craft. There were three people within, the lunatic pilot, Jennifer, and her cameraman, Bobby. She handed him a headset, and the moment he fit it over his ears, the outside noise became muffled.
“How did you get here?” he asked.
“I had to fly along the highway from the south, about fifty feet off the road,” the pilot replied. “It was the only way to stay off their radar.”
Fifty feet! Where did she find this guy?
“Wow, you look like shit. Can you do a short interview before we leave?” Jennifer asked.
He ignored her critique. “A minute or two, maybe, but I really have to go before…” he trailed off.
“Before what?” she leaned forward and motioned to Bobby with her right hand.
Blake noticed the cameraman had the camera already pointed at him, and he was likely already recording.
“How long until this airs?” he asked to evade her question.
“We’re live,” she replied and then glanced down at her phone. “Over twenty million people are watching this right now.”
Blake smiled awkwardly at the camera before he turned to Jennifer. “What? How? They took down the cell towers.”
Jennifer smiled. “We have Spacelink satellite internet service. It works anywhere. Now, please let my viewers know what’s been happening and what your plans are. They’re dying to hear your side of the story.”
“You want me to give my plans away, live?” he asked in disbelief.
“There’s a delay,” she informed him.
How big is the delay? Screw it, this either works and it doesn’t matter, or it doesn’t and I’m dead.
Bobby pushed the camera directly into his face from the front passenger seat.
“They have some kind of UFO hovering above The Dome,” he explained, using the new term for the shield. “It looks like a black triangle, and it’s been using some kind of heat weapon against The Dome for the last few days now.”
Jennifer frowned at the mention of UFOs, but did not disagree with him. “Is this weapon capable of piercing through The Dome?”
“Yes, and no,” he waffled and flinched as Bobby swung the camera back to him. “As long as we have nano, everything is fine, but it keeps needing more and more to repair the shield. Eventually, we’re going to run out. Nano is…”
“Yes,” Jennifer interrupted him. “We’re aware of what nano is, it’s in The Guide. So, how do you plan on defeating this… craft?”
Blake took a deep breath. “That’s where this helicopter comes in. If he can fly us high enough, I can jump out of it and land on top of the UFO. Then I can destroy it.”
Blake heard nothing but silence for two seconds as Jennifer’s jaw dropped. Finally, she seemed to remember they were live and asked, “Can you survive a fall from that altitude?”
“That’s not the problem,” Blake replied. “I’m more worried about getting close enough without the engines failing.”
Jennifer laughed and looked at the camera. “That’s not the problem, he says.” She faced Blake once again and asked, “What do you mean by engines failing?”
“We think the UFO stops aircraft and helicopters from getting too close. It’s why all the military’s helicopters leave when it shows up.”
“How close do I need to get, and how high do you need me to fly?” the pilot asked from the front seat with a large grin.
This guy looks like he’s about to ask for my autograph.
Blake turned to address the man, and the camera followed his gaze. “I don’t know, but as high as possible, and as close as possible. I’ll do the rest.”
“You need a parachute?” the pilot asked.
Blake shook his head.
The pilot raised his eyebrows and then nodded.
Suddenly, Blake heard a voice over the helicopter’s radio demand they stay grounded and remain until they are placed under arrest.
I guess they watch her livestream. No surprise there.
The pilot turned a knob counter-clockwise, and the volume of the voice dropped until they could no longer hear it. “Sometimes voices try to tell me what to do. I just ignore them.”
Blake looked at Jennifer in concern and noticed her eyes were wide as well.
“We need to go, now, before they get here,” Blake told the aviator and prayed his flying was more stable than his mind.
The pilot nodded in agreement and yelled, “Buckle in!” The helicopter quickly began to rise. Jennifer grasped the handhold to brace against the fast ascent, and Bobby struggled to maintain the camera. She continued to ask him questions.
“Before you jump out of a helicopter without a parachute, is there anything you’d like to tell the viewers?”
Blake looked at the camera lens. “In about seven hours, all electricity will fail. Whatever you do, don’t get in a car or airplane. They’re deathtraps, and crashes will kill millions of people worldwide. Hospitals, get ready! Your generators will not work. If you need electricity to survive, I’m sorry, say goodbye to your loved ones.”
“Bobby, focus on The Dome,” she ordered her cameraman. “You can see something above it.”
Sure enough, Blake could faintly see a flat triangle as it hovered a thousand feet above the iridescent shield.
“What is that?” Jennifer mumbled.
I told you, it’s a UFO.
“Looks like they picked us up on radar. We’ve got company incoming, hold on.” the pilot warned before Blake could respond.
Blake twisted his neck and looked out the opposite window. In the distance, he saw two helicopters angled toward them. They were flying at a much higher speed, and would quickly close the distance.
“Can you get closer to The Dome?” he asked the aviator.
“Sure thing,” he said with a maniacal grin, and adjusted the cyclic stick to move them forward. While their speed dramatically increased, their altitude did not. Another two minutes passed as The Dome grew closer. Bobby continued to film the strange craft, while Jennifer rambled on and the pilot mumbled and laughed to himself.
“Are any of my audience members able to identify whatever strange aircraft that is?” she asked, and then turned to address Blake. “Are aliens real? Could this be their craft?”
“Of course they’re real,” he frowned as Bobby zoomed in. “Where do you think the nanomachines come from? As far as the UFO,” he shrugged. “I have no clue. I’ve never seen this before.”
“I knew those bastards were real!” the pilot yelled.
Suddenly, the helicopter lurched and Blake heard alarms blare. The pilot frantically fought for control and quickly arrested their forward movement. “I got it, I got it!”
“If you can get me higher, this is close enough!” Blake informed him.
“Maybe I don’t got it, I don’t think higher is an option.”
“Just get away from the UFO, and it’ll stop,” Blake said confidently.
The pilot nodded, and a few seconds later, the flight smoothed out. After he had full control of the craft, they began to rise higher into the air. “Screw those bastards,” he muttered.
Looks like Brent was right again.
Jennifer leaned forward to ask another question, when the pilot cursed. “Shit! We’re painted!”
Huh?
Suddenly, Blake saw a flight of missiles shoot from the two helicopters. They traveled at incredible speed, and would reach them in only moments. Their pilot whooped over the intercom and the helicopter dove toward The Dome in an effort to evade them.
We’re still not high enough!
A moment later, the helicopter began to stall. To Blake’s amazement, the missiles did as well. They fishtailed through the sky and quickly lost altitude. When they fell uselessly to the ground, the pilot pulled away from The Dome, and resumed their ascent.
We might actually pull this off!
Jennifer seemed ecstatic. “As you all just witnessed, the United States military just opened fire on this unarmed helicopter, and planned to murder four US citizens. This is unacceptable.”
She’s pretty cool under fire. Most people would be freaking out right now.
“Damn right it is,” the pilot yelled. “Assholes!”
A minute later, the pilot said, “This is as high as we go. Any higher, and we’ll be on our way down, the quick way.”
It’ll have to do.
Blake opened the door, and the camera whirled to focus on him. Suddenly, he could not keep a smirk off his face. “Just know this,” he told the camera. “When I negotiated with the President, he didn’t give a shit about the hostages. He told me their lives were a small price to pay. This is for you, Mr. President!”
After that damning statement, he displayed both middle fingers to the camera, turned, and leapt from the helicopter.
Immediately, he felt as if his stomach rose into his throat, and tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable sensation. Blake quickly used a Gale to reorient his direction, and angled his body to control his fall. Wind rushed past his head, and he did not dare look back to see the fate of his ride. While he had never skydived before, he quickly gained control and zoomed toward the UFO. Every time his Gale was available, he cast the spell and grew ever closer to his target.
I don’t think I’m going to make it. I need to use a teleport charge.
Blake used a Spatial Step to shift himself forward twenty feet, confident the charge would regenerate by the time he destroyed the craft. The spell worked, and he was now certain he could land on top of it.
Does it not have cameras on top of it? Why isn’t it reacting to me?
Suddenly, Blake felt extremely uncomfortable and his Flame Shield disappeared. His skin burned, and his eyesight blurred as he squinted through half-closed eyelids. He focused his Regeneration on his sight, and tried his best to ignore the pain. The closer he got to the craft, the worse he felt, until finally, he could Spatial Step directly on top of it.
The moment he landed on the craft, the pain fled. To his surprise, the sound of the craft filled his ears, and the vibration set his teeth on edge.
Focus!
Blake retrieved his spear, charged it with chi, and drove it into the center of the craft. His weapon’s tip easily pierced through the light metal and continued to sink into the craft until it hit resistance deeper within. The charge of chi exploded from the weapon, and the engines immediately faltered.
That was easy.
The craft lurched to the side as first one, then two, of the propulsors failed. Suddenly, the entire UFO began to fall like dead weight from the sky. Blake quickly checked his interface and stared in horror at the time listed until his next teleport charge became available.
Thirty-five seconds!
He had destroyed the craft too quickly, and it would crash into The Dome long before Spatial Step became available. At the last second, Blake leapt off the craft and used a Gale to slow his fall. Unfortunately, it was too little, too late.
The UFO slammed into the shield at incredible speed and bounced. A moment later, Blake crashed into the craft at close to a hundred miles an hour.
Bones snapped, and he grunted as he rolled off the now destroyed craft’s side. Then, barely conscious, he plummeted another few hundred feet until he slammed into the gravel road inside The Dome.
The world went black.
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Blake remained unconscious for six hours. When he woke, Brent and Jordan carried him to the couch in his mother’s office, and he did his best to hide the pain. According to Jessica, the entire event was broadcast live on the internet, and Jennifer had achieved a new level of fame.
Not only had she risked her life to speak to Blake, but she remained calm while missiles had been launched at them. After a second round failed to reach Jennifer’s craft, the military ceased their attempts to destroy them and waited for them to land. Once they did so, all three were promptly arrested, and the live stream abruptly ended.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Donna asked as she worried over his broken body.
“Yes, just please help me to the chair.”
Blake had used all of his chi to heal his broken bones, but his injuries still remained severe. With his mother’s help, he rose from the couch and hobbled over to her chair.
In only minutes, the entire world would join the Collective, and he would give his speech. He wanted to be seated behind a desk, not prone on a sofa like an invalid. After he eased into it, Donna handed him his handwritten speech. Blake had transcribed it weeks before and had rewritten it at least four times since.
“Did Jessica call the airports?” he asked.
With great patience, his mother replied, “Yes, she and the others called in bomb threats to every major airport. And before you ask, yes, Tribal leadership is ready. They have horses and carts of supplies just waiting for the event.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ve been planning this for months. It’s all handled. You just focus on the speech, then you can rest.”
He shook his head and winced when his neck twinged. “There’s too much to do. I won’t have time to rest.”
Suddenly, a host of notifications filled his interface.
It’s time.