One minute after a young man named Sergei died when he underestimated an old gamer, five more of General Maximus's army rolled up on the scene, beeping their disappointment at missing the fight, and requesting another round of the game be scheduled. For now, they got the job of ferrying their injured companions with bent wheels. One was left as rear guard to make sure the few lightly wounded mercenaries spent their time on applying first aid to their bleeding companions, and not doing something clever and fatal like following or trying to escape. It was an easy decision for the mercs. The effects of the infrasound would be with them for weeks without advanced medical care. Eardrums were burst and all of them had damage to internal organs including minor concussions. They could barely walk and were concentrating on using their med kits and popping pain relievers. None of them knew exactly what had happened but didn't want to play another round with their robotic adversaries.

Three minutes after the last shot was fired, no one was in the courtyard but the injured mercs and one guard. Mama insisted on Milo using one of her bedsheets to clean the blood off of his armor. "You look frightening enough in that get-up without gore dripping off of you." It was an easy job, his armor's finish was like Teflon and shed the sticky liquid and bits of brain. Milo was still leaning on her as they rounded the corner and walked slowly to catch up with the others. His followers switched to cleaning mode, erasing tracks as they traveled.

Within ten minutes of the battle ending, Milo was leading his party into the abandoned administration area, leading them through darkened hallways to the large offices in the rear. Several doors and many rooms separated them from the main entrance and he chanced turning on a light and letting people rest and get their bearings. Big Butch nodded as he considered where they were. "This is a good spot. Admin offices have reinforced walls, solid steel doors and heavy locks. They won't get in easily, even if they can find us. We can hide out here until security finds their ass and notify the regular police."

Milo shook his head. "This is just the first stop. I need to co-ordinate with some people, let my stragglers catch up, and cover our tracks. We're going someplace much safer. I'll explain in a bit." And while he didn't want to show it, he needed to rest for a bit longer and let the painkillers and medications in his suit soothe his bruised body. The armor had stopped most, but not all of the impacts. And each subsequent impact was more effective as the armor struggled to spread and negate the momentum of the bullets. Milo was bruised badly over his entire torso and several ribs had sustained micro fractures. He needed the painkillers to help him concentrate and move better. He hadn't explored all of downtown to make sure it was totally safe, and the fate of Bill the Dick worried him.

Butch punched him in the shoulder, making him wince in pain. Butch didn't fare better, skinning and bruising his knuckles on the armor. He shrugged and added it to all the odd things about his newest little brother. "It must be serious if you're actually going to explain things." Then the older boy surprised him by grabbing him in a hug. "Thanks for saving Mama. Make your moves, I'll go entertain the rugrats and keep them out of your hair." A year ago, Milo would have ducked the hug and run. Today he just nodded his thanks and began typing on his datapad.

Fifteen minutes after the battle ended, several things happened. The first was the arrival of four Ubercopters that were all trying to land on the roof to pick up fares. Their human controllers sorted out the order back at the local office and made guesses as to who needed so much transport. The customer had paid the extra fees for confidentiality. No cameras recorded who got in, and one by one, the vehicles landed, waited for the signal to proceed, and took back off. The first headed north to New York, landing on the roof of the Javits Center where the annual toy convention was in full swing with a quarter million people on the floor looking at the next years hot offerings. The hit of the show was a six-foot tall robotic cookie monster that would entertain children with songs and games while also eating every cookie, cake, or desert in the house, to help the adults stick to their diets. Since no one ever reads the directions, thousands of people were awakened at 12:01 a.m. Christmas morning as the robots activated and yelled out, "Me Found Cookie!!! Nomnomnom!" This was followed by a full search of the house by the fuzzy blue creatures and the destruction of candy canes, pies for Christmas dinner, and hidden snacks. Many children took this as a sign that Christmas had started and raced downstairs, following their new toy and watching as it ransacked the house while parents scrambled to remember how to use the remote controllers. Santa was going to be very disappointed at those households, and the expensive toy was the hit of the season. The second headed south to Walt Disney World. The third to Dollywood Land in Tennessee, and the fourth flew in circles for six hours before landing at a large mall north of Philadelphia.

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The second thing that happened was all signals coming from Belinda Seimovich went dead and stayed dead. Her last location was near the entrance to the Manpower corporation.

The third event was the arrival of a group of habitat security, a squad of Philadelphia Riot Police, and half a dozen security guards from Manpower. They were accompanied by two shaken mercenaries who had to endure the stares of disdain from their wounded squad mates. The men from habitat security stopped as they saw the courtyard, several becoming sick. The regular police were shaken but had seen there share of murders and accidents. But none as bad as this.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, feel the same. I've called crime scenes a blood bath before, but this really teaches the meaning of that phrase."

"Call up the chain and get us enough air ambulances for a dozen people, three more squads, full forensics and some body bags. While you're at it, get on the horn to Homeland Security. According to our two scared friends, these people aren't from around here and they aren't talking."

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A half hour after arriving in the admin area, all of Milo's soldiers had made it home. He told Max to leave someone in these rooms, hidden to observe anyone entering. The kids were amazed at the little scurrying robots, the adults a bit less so, knowing what they could do. The next part of his plan was tough, talking with everyone.

"Ok, this is going to be a little strange. We're going to a safe place that I think everyone will like better. I have a friend who lives there, a special friend. To protect him, you all have to promise never to tell anyone about where he lives. There are people looking for him, people like we're dealing with now. He wants to help and we all need to trust each other."

There were nods all around, people living in this hab knew a lot about trust and what happens when that breaks down. Groups might be territorial when protecting their neighborhoods, but overall the residents got along, and trust wasn't something that was easy to earn back once you screwed up. Big Butch looked at all the children. "Not a game. We never talk. Not to friends, not for a reward, and if someone asks, you look all stupid and don't understand. Got it?"

Milo stood up, feeling much better now, both physically and emotionally. "My friends name is Rusty. He's a little odd. He can't move around at all. Worse than Belinda, even. But he can talk to us, watch videos with us, and needs more friends. We'll go to his house now. We have to be polite, and some parts are dangerous or have bad air. So no exploring, and if the Roomba beep or get in your way, turn around."

Max spoke up, talking in a deep mechanical voice, "Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!"

"Yeah, like that. Thanks Max."

He turned to face the wall, and the door to the elevator slid back, to everyone's amazement. Butch walked in, "It's a little small, but you get points for sneaky."

Milo smiled, "You have no idea." Several of the children screamed and everyone held onto the handrail as the elevator descended. "Next stop, Downtown."