Affordable Solar & Wind

Lunar One copyright 2005

   Bill Larantz stepped out of a door accompanied by three, armed security officers. They turned left down the long corridor, walking methodically slow. He noticed the dark blue stretch uniforms they were wearing, which had a bright-yellow triangular shaped stripe across the front, centered by a large chrome star – the symbol for the World Federation.

   “What’s it like to work as a security officer?” He asked cheerfully, hoping to somehow break the solemn atmosphere of his companions. But it was to no avail as they didn’t respond nor even acknowledge that he had spoken.As they marched along Bill surveyed the faces of the officers and found that they looked straight ahead intently but saw nothing. It was as if they were locked inside their heads.

   The corridor was oval shaped and dimly lit with neon lighting that streamed along each side behind glass covers. The walls were faced with a gloomy blue-gray material, which was disturbing to look at.

   They quickly approached a large four section portal at the end of the corridor, next to which was located an elaborate keypad. The lead officer deftly typed a code in order to gain access to the entrance. The large door opened up by the two top sections separating and moving up while the bottom sections separated and moved down respectively. Passing through the opening they entered a spacious white colored chamber at the center of which was an enormous console. Surrounding the control panel was a bright florescent-green field, which extended up from the floor about eight feet.

   They continued on heading for the green field. The doorway behind them closed with a surprising boom giving him a bit of a start. He could feel his heart flutter for a moment and then it quickly recovered when he realized what it was. Upon entering the field a large three-dimensional head appeared before them sporting a very menacing look. The group took a few steps closer and then stopped abruptly.

   “Bill Larantz please step forward,” a loud voice blasted from some unseen speaker system. Bill complied a little weak in the knees.

   “I am Holax Maddan, Chief Arbiter West-zone district, World Federation,” the voice continued fatefully. “Case WF-SH-448xx7 Sentence hearing commencement 4:45:00pm-07/24/2110,” Holax said, as if it were an aside, sending the communication to some other unknown audience.

   Attention was quickly directed back to him however as Holax said, “You have been convicted of the following crimes: Three counts attempted overthrow of the World Federation, Two counts conspiracy against mankind and Two hundred counts murder of Federation personnel.”

   There was an abrupt momentary pause as the large head glared at him grimly, then it continued with, “Because of the violent and terroristic nature of your crimes, you have been categorized as a Level Six Convict – maximum danger and destructiveness to society. Therefore, this court hereby sentences you to life imprisonment at the maximum-security Lunar-One criminal institution. You will be leaving at 8:30am-07/25/2110. All of your personal records are – as we speak – being deleted from all databases. You are no longer Bill Larantz, that identity has been permanently erased just as if you had never been born. You are now the property of the World Federation. Your identity is now L-1/INM-448xx7. As the property of the WF you can and may be subjected to any psychiatric-experimentation, including drugs, shock and surgery. Do you have anything to say for yourself before your sentence begins?” Holax asked in conclusion with a most invalidating tone and expression.

   “I am neither a criminal nor a terrorist!” Bill began his challenging retort looking squarely in the eyes of the giant head facsimile before him. “Me and my fellow Freedom Fighters are attempting to restore liberty to this planet that the World Fe–––,” he attempted to say but the hologram image vehemently cut him off midstream with:

   “We don’t want to hear any of your old-world democratic ideas here. Personal liberty was a failure, as everyone knows, for it is just too dangerous. The American Republic is out and the One World Order is in. You have failed to keep up with the times and just like all the rest of your freedom-advocate brethren, your true purpose – while beating the drum for liberty – is to commit crimes and protect criminals,” Holax stated with finality and evaluation.

   As Bill considered the ridiculousness of the statement he had just heard and the comical seriousness with which it was uttered, he suddenly broke out into uncontrolled laughter.

   The head’s features became enraged as it bellowed to the security officers, “Restrain this criminal at once!”

   The three officers complied in a hectic manner, by pulling out their electrified nightsticks, turning them on and touching them to Bill’s midsection in unison, sending him into immediate violent convulsions for a few short seconds, after which he collapsed unconscious to the floor.

9:45:00-AM-08/15/2110

   John Smith was not his real name, it was actually Nolan Pool, but that name was just too unique. You see Nolan had the fortune or misfortune – however the case may be – of having been born with the most average features. He had the mean height of five feet eleven inches. His brown hair and brown eyes were very common. To accentuate this he wore run-of-the-mill clothes and shoes, had an average-Joe hair cut and maintained a work-a-day manner in all of his actions.

   Now most people who were quite average in looks would have probably considered this to be a real problem and might have tried to make themselves a bit out of the ordinary in some way, by getting an odd haircut, donning strange clothes, or something. But not Nolan; instead he thought of it as an asset, an advantage to be utilized to the fullest. All the while he was growing up he practiced being ordinary. He specifically watched films and movies to spot the people who didn’t stand out, which were usually in the background and were quite often missed by everyone else. He would then mimic their every move, practicing and drilling constantly, getting their actions down cold. He would then seek out new films and movies for more every-day characters and then mimic them and so on…

    He was now fifty-seven and having made this average behavior a habit for many years now, had become a true master of the common man, his every move a letter-perfect regularity. So good in fact that he was now able to virtually disappear. He could get multitudes of people to become unaware of him. Everyone he met and even those he saw on a regular basis had a very hard time remembering his name. Some would try hard for a while to pay attention to him and keep track of him, but after only a short time they would begin to lose him, eventually he became just part of the background. All communication to him would start being on an automatic basis. And he went about his business making very certain that he kept all of his actions mundane.

   Nolan had done very average in High School and College, though he could have done much better, but that would have gone against his every-day guy persona. After finishing school he became a reporter for a newspaper in Pittsburgh. He was not an exceptionally great journalist, but could get into places and get stories that others could not, because of his invisible man ability. He worked at the paper for the better part of ten years and gradually befriended a beautiful woman columnist named Stasha. They worked together closely for years as good friends and eventually fell in love with each other, ultimately marrying. Yes he could remember those times vividly. That was back in the old days when the United States was still intact, before The One World Order had taken over. They had a really great relationship as she was the one to stand out and he was just the opposite. And because he was so average he took nothing away from her. Nobody ever really noticed them as a couple, but rather her as a star journalist and beautiful woman. So that worked out great because he didn’t want distinction at all and she lived on it.

   Each year their love grew stronger and stronger and understanding between them was inviolable. They became such a great team together that they felt nothing could get in their way and could therefore accomplish anything. And so it was they endeavored together with the intention of changing the world for the better. But sometimes it seems that perfect situations such as theirs are not meant for a world as imperfect as this, and – just when it seemed that things could not possibly get any better – the wonderful individual that he cherished so dearly, was murdered, ending forever their life and love together.

   She had been working on a story and was uncovering evidence of a secret state government conspiracy, proving that revenue allotted for education, was being used instead to drug children between the ages of six to twelve. The “medications” being administered – though legal – would in effect render all of these young people mentally disabled, thus permanently nullifying their chances of getting any kind of education. And so when she had uncovered and exposed too much, the vested-interest-powers-that-be did her in but good. They did not just kill her but riddled her body with thirty plus rounds from a semi-automatic machine gun.

   He was – to say the least – overwhelmed and devastated by his loss for nearly a year. He couldn’t think or function. He went through the daily motions of life – eating, dressing, showering and working – kind of on an auto-pilot basis, never really doing any of it at all. He had completely lost his purpose and drive to go on living. But then one day he realized what he must do. He needed to avenge his wife’s tragic death by exposing the responsible group as the bloodletting totalitarians that they were. And so his every waking moment was spent ferreting out their dastardly schemes and plots.

   He soon discovered that the group he was after was much larger and higher up than he had expected. The true source was a corporate elite that ran the entire planet. The more he penetrated the operations of these people the more hate he developed for them. He realized two years ahead of time that something like the World Federation was on its way. He knew there was nothing he could do to stop it from arriving. But knowing this did not, in any small way, deter his determination to rid the world of this atrocious group.

   He of course no longer worked for any newspaper, as they had all been taken over and slanted with WF propaganda. His methods of both finding and distributing the truth about The One-World-Order were simple and insidious. He would get jobs in which he would correct the books of large corporations, thus enabling him to poke around and research, collect evidence, then move on to the next gig and do the same. After a while he would have the information necessary to release an exposé over various private media such as underground computer networks and home broadcasting (television and radio). In addition he would publish articles anonymously in various secret evolutionary and revolutionary magazines, papers etc.

   Nolan walked along Canal Street heading for Saxon center – the newest fifty story corporate office building in lower Manhattan. As he went along he noticed the people on foot near him, but they noticed him not at all. Their expressions were all very nervous as they tried to avoid the many security cams above the street. Everywhere you looked there were cameras of various kinds, there were different sizes and shapes, placed in every type of location. They were all perfectly designed to watch your every move. The people were no longer free and the atmosphere was anxious and troublesome.

   Upon reaching the front doors of his destination he took care to enter the building in the exact manner he did everyday and was not thrown off by the unexpected, “Hi” from some unknown passerby.

   He responded with an average “Hello” and a slight bow of the head then continued on. He made sure that each and every step and motion that he took was an exact duplicate of prior ones he had taken each time before. He stepped into the elevator and monotonously pressed twenty-four, watched the doors close and started on his ascent. It took some time to reach floor twenty-four, what with all the stops made along the way but finally he arrived and the doors opened. He stepped out and turned right to walk up the long corridor towards suite 2469.

   Once he had reached the correct office he rang a buzzer located next to the door. Shortly thereafter a voice from an intercom said, “Good morning Mr. Smith, come on in.”

   The door latch-light went from red to green and then he opened the door and entered.    “Hello Mr. Benkins,” he said as he closed the door behind him. He noticed that some unknown person stood next to Benkins.

   “Ah-Jim right?” Benkins asked, obviously already having trouble with his first name.

   “It’s John sir,” he replied, not in the least disturbed by his forgetting.

   “Oh yes John that’s right. I would like you to meet Daran Oldemayer, he is the Chief Executive officer of our company,” Benkins introduced nervously.

   “Pleased to meet you,” Nolan said, as he shook the VIP’s hand making sure not to be effusive, keeping in his usual everyday manner as well.

   “Nice to meet you,” The executive said, not meaning it at all as he had an attitude of “I am the most important person you have probably ever met.”

   “There are the files that I need you to correct today,” Benkins said distractedly as he pointed towards two or three Super-Disk-ROM cartridges of one hundred “googol-bit” capacity – one hundred googol bytes of information. And then he continued with, “We were just on our way to our quarterly meeting so I will check back with you later. Alright?”

   “Ok Mr. Benkins see you later on,” Nolan said quite nonchalantly and noticed that they didn’t even stay to hear him finish, as they had already left. The VIP he had greeted was not aware that he had infected his hand with over a million nano-percept recorders. These micro-robots were beyond state-of-the art. They were so far undetectable by any system or device – of course this would be so, for just so long, perhaps two or three months longer and then he would have to improve and miniaturize them yet again. He had infected the Chief executive because he had heard rumors of an ultra-secret convention comprised of the most elite and wealthy individuals on the planet. And he wanted to record this meeting in its entirety as this might just be the breakthrough event that could completely expose the true intentions and nature of the World Federation.

   He sat down at the computer, slid in the twelve inch Super-Disk-ROM and began correcting the books as requested but at the same time infected the network with several virus code mechanisms. He also planted a few million hardware and program nano-bots in the main computer so as to redesign and reconstruct the whole system from afar – all undetectable of course. In not too long a time he would have such total control over the company software that he could do whatever he wanted with it and the users would only see what he wanted them to see, nobody ever suspecting anything different.

   In just four hours time he had successfully installed the proper corrector modules that would right the entire database while taking care of his own agenda as well. There was not much else he could do at this point but sit back and let everything takes its course.

10:15:00-AM-09/10/2110

   Erick Land was a little more than just a bit nervous as he walked about with the personnel director who was currently giving him his orientation. You see this was his very first day on a job he had been striving at for more than fifteen years. Somewhere in the back of his mind he felt as if somehow something would go wrong and all of his hard work would be for naught. This was mixed with intermittent positive feelings and thoughts like “Wow I really made it.”

   The Personnel director – Harve Migel – started his orientation lecture with, “I am going to give you a complete rundown of the Lunar One control station, a little of it’s history and what it is exactly that we do here.” Harve stated this importantly and you could tell that he thought that working here was of a very high status. He continued on with, “We abbreviate the prison facility to L-1 and the control station to L-1-Con. Now, L-1 is located at Anderson crater 150 kilometers south of where we are here at Freundich crater, which is the home of L-1-Con. We have to run the prison remotely, as the inmates that are sent there are the most dangerous in the solar system. We control – by way of robots and robotic systems and equipment – the entire L-1 facility. We feed the prisoners, keep watch on them, maintain the grounds and structures, and additionally administrate all new construction and planning all from L-1-Con. The inmates come in by small one-way capsules, which become – upon landing – prison cells. All supplies and equipment are shipped from here via automated mini-rail, so as not to allow for a way of escape. The mini-rail cars are so small that there is no way that any human being – including a small child – could possibly fit aboard it. Additionally there is no way to carry or produce oxygen on the rail cars, making it doubly impossible as an escape route. So you see we have here the most escape proof prison ever constructed, one hundred percent fail-safe in my opinion.”

   Harve paused for a moment in his speech to take a drink of water from his refrigerated thermos unit. And then he continued with, “Now the history of L-1 and L-1-Con began thirty years ago when construction was initiated. It took the better part of ten years to finish and the first inmate arrived nineteen years ago. Since then more than seven thousand prisoners have been sent here, not one has ever escaped and it is not expected that any ever will. The idea for L-1 was conceived by Helmer Aswit, he was a noted psychiatrist and prison director. The current inmate population is four thousand, one hundred and fifty six. This is due to the fact that since The One World Order has taken over Earth, various prisoner rights have been dropped and the government can now use these prisoners in any experiments they see fit. About forty percent of the prisoners who have died at L-1 were due to psychiatric research tests.”

   Harve again halted for a time as they made their way around a large wall, on the other side of which, was an enormous computer control center. Erik couldn’t believe how many people he saw running all manner of computerized equipment; things so high-tech and advanced that it was beyond belief. The center stretched out in all directions and was about the size of a stadium. As he stood there dumbfounded Harve resumed. “Here is where it all happens. This is where you will be working once you complete your entrance program, but for now let me give you a tour. As you can see there is quite a bit of personnel needed to operate L-1.” He stopped and looked at Erik somehow sensing that he wanted to comment.

   “Wow! I never imagined that it would be anything like this. It’s almost overwhelming,” Erik stated with obvious awe.

   “Yes it can seem that way when you have not been given any information beforehand. As you know everything that we do here is top-secret and confidential. This is why you signed the pledge stating that you will not disclose anything about what we do, what you see or what you know concerning L-1 and L-1-Con, under penalty of imprisonment,” Harve responded in a “this-is-to-be-expected” attitude.

   They continued the tour for the balance of his first day. Late that night in his quarters, Erik pondered on the next six days, which was how long his entrance program would take. His mind then went on to the next eighteen months – the length of his first tour at L-1-Con; he hoped that all would go well. He also looked forward to his three-month leave after his first tour, although it was a long way off, it was a good goal to work towards. He felt pretty good about everything now, minus the apprehension and anxiety he had earlier. He thought, “it’s all going to work out fine.” A few short moments later he was sound asleep.

2:25:00-PM-09/22/2110

   It had been nearly two months since Bill had been sentenced back on earth. He had taken off the very next morning on a prison airbus, top-security of course. He rode the bus for fifteen hours to Houston where he was transferred aboard Space-Elevator-One – better known as the thriftiest way into space. This grueling journey was most unpleasant and lasted five – seemingly unending – days. At the end of that time, already some two thousand miles in space, he was transferred to an enormous earth-moon-space-barge where he was placed aboard a small capsule – later to serve as his prison cell upon reaching Lunar-one. Traveling on the barge was not too bad; he actually almost enjoyed himself. But this only lasted for two days at which time the large ship entered the lunar orbit. Once on the far side – with the earth no longer in view – he and the capsule of his imprisonment were ejected from the barge towards Lunar-One at Anderson crater. It took the capsule under three hours to get there. Upon entering the crater, you could see what looked like some lunar settlement city scattered across it. His capsule was not going to land on the surface, but instead sought out one of four large shafts that led deep underground. Once it had made it to the shaft it was heading for, it began to slowly descend going down, down, seemingly to the depths of hell. The capsule stopped descending at about one point five kilometers underground and found an empty pre-constructed concavement, which it entered and then finally came to rest. A short time after that he could see various robotic machines doing a multitude of operations to adapt his capsule to the Lunar-One system complex.

   Bill knew that he had a very limited amount of time to save himself. If he wanted to make it out of here alive, he would have to act extremely fast, as he was aware of the fact that all technically trained prisoners, were used in experiments that ended with death – usually within the first six to eight months of imprisonment. This was – he figured – because they were trying to prevent escape. However, he had been planning his breakout well before he had arrived. In fact, he had been planning for it since the inception of the Freedom-fighter movement, over five years ago.

   He had smuggled – hidden deep within a cavity in one of his teeth – less than one microgram of nano-replicators. These nano-bots were capable of replicating at the rate of two-ex per minute. He had earlier programmed them to activate upon touching a micro magnet to the cavity in his tooth, which he had hidden in a plastic toothpick. And now, two months later, he had nearly two tons of nanobotic material. He had to be extremely prudent in his programming not to amass too much in any one area, as it would be detected. And so, during production, he carefully dispersed the microscopic material all throughout Lunar-One. He had developed a large array of different kinds of micro-equipment, each and every one of which, was designated a particular task. He had a whole series of computer reprogramming nano-bots. The first thing he did with these was to infiltrate the whole network, including all of the robotic equipment. Then he began to create a system wide simulation of L-1, using the digital footage he had collected from the video recording devices, located throughout the prison.

   He wanted to be able to handle every conceivable variation, so that those monitoring L-1 at the base-station would believe that they were seeing actual signals and not simulation. This was especially difficult to do for those robots that traveled throughout L-1 being remotely operated by L-1-Con personnel. He had accomplished this goal three days ago and was at this time, slowly, one by one, switching from video signal to simulation. He had to be very cautious in doing this, because each time he switched a machine over there was a split second in which there was an absence of signal transmission and this caused interference on the receiving end. This sort of thing was not too unusual in ordinary operations, as electronic equipment tended to do that from time to time. But he didn’t want to get too carried away on this, because were it to happen too frequently, someone could very easily become suspicious. And so he usually picked equipment that was not in operation temporarily. Sometimes however, he had to pick one that was in operation – due to the time factor – knowing very well that the change in signal would be seen at the base end.

   The next step he had planned was to record as many of the Psychiatric experiments as possible from the robotic-testing equipment. He had already captured twelve prefrontal lobotomies, twenty-two electric-shock treatments, over fifty pain-drug-hypnosis sessions and about twenty-five other miscellaneous tests. He figured he needed about double that amount to produce enough variety of simulations. He was also in the process of gaining access to the entire computer network. He desperately needed to do this, so that he could find out whom they would be choosing for each experiment. He felt a great deal of anxiety with regard to this, because his very survival depended upon it and he had about another month of work to go to complete it.

   Now because he couldn’t have any equipment in his room, he had to infect himself with various nanobotic systems. He had for instance, nano-synapse signalers, which converted nano-signals to nerve-signals that could then be seen in his mind as pictures. He had also, synapse-nano receivers, which would take his thoughts as commands and convert them to nano-signals. And in addition to that, he had a nano-digestive detoxification system, which filtered out all drugs, toxins and poison while he ate. He had discovered that they were already doing some kind of test on him, using nerve drugs and he therefore had to act as if it were affecting him by dramatizing the effects, lest anyone become suspicious. And so he worked intently on, burning the midnight oil in a race against time, to both save his life and escape from this godforsaken man made hell.

3:15:00-PM-12/21/2110

   Noland had successfully infected thirty-three people with nano-bots in the last six months. He had selected the most likely candidates he could find that were likely to attend the conference of the elite. As it turned out, only eight of those he had chosen actually had made it, but that was more than enough for his needs.

   The great convention was being held near Groom Lake, Nevada, in a location known as area 51 – a top secret government base. It had started nearly an hour ago and all the equipment he had implanted was functioning excellently. As he was constantly in need of modernizing his nano-bots, he had a system in place within each person infected that would construct each advance and then gradually replace the previous technology with the new. So far there had been no sign that any of his micro-equipment had been detected, which was all very good and well, but on the other hand, he still could not be relaxed about it, as each moment that passed brought an increased possibility of it occurring. He only hoped that he could get enough data to expose them enough to bring about their demise.

   He noted the many VIP’s that were attending: there was the President of the World Federation, the Secretary of Prisons, the Secretary of Health and Mental Stability, four Sector Governors and over one-hundred International Corporate officers from the worlds largest enterprises. Eight of the corporate leaders were infected with nano-technology and they were unwittingly sending him signals just as if they had been spies working for him intentionally. One executive in particular, Daran Oldemayer, CEO of Saxon Software Incorporated, was the central terminal through which all digital information collected was being channeled. Noland thought back to the day he had met this man, the day he had infected him, he had been so smug and self-important, and here he was betraying his fellow power-mongers.

   Noland listened in as the President of the World Federation began, “We have to do something urgently to fully quench the whole Freedom Fighter movement. We must do this immediately and we must be ruthless about it. Does anyone have any suggestions?” For a moment after he asked there was a definite silence and you could tell that this subject weighted deeply on everyone.

   “I recommend that all freedom fighters that are captured be sent to the Lunar-One facility,” the Secretary of Prisons stated suddenly, disrupting the silence. “You have already sent us five individuals, four of which have already been killed by early psychiatric experiments. We will make sure the fifth one dies within the next three weeks.” There was applause from the entire group upon hearing this.

   “I commend you highly for this and we will indeed keep sending you more captured F-F’s. But as you may know this will not totally handle the situation, as the movement seems to be growing rampantly. What we need is something that will totally eradicate this thing once and for all,” the President responded with much officialdom.

   “Our department has been working on a plan for some time now with regard to this, and I think we may have something that will do the trick Mr. President,” the Secretary of Health interjected with complete confidence.

   “Well don’t keep us waiting. Please do tell us all about it,” the President urged with some impatience.

   “Very well sir,” Frank Liben – Secretary of Health – began, a little confused at just how to start, being that his mind was racing with many different thoughts all at once. He continued with, “Here goes.” He used this to buy himself a little more time as he was still struggling to organize all the information. Finally he had some semblance of form on it and began for real with, “As you have stated Mr. President, we do have a serious problem with regard to the Freedom Fighter movement, which is a very real threat to the One World Order. Since the inception of the World Federation, the Department of Health, the Department of Justice and Imprisonment, along with many other sectors of government have been engaged in voluminous psychotropic and nanobotic drug experimentation. These experiments and tests have been performed in nearly all of the world’s prisons, mental institutions, hospitals and even many clinics. After many years of testing we have created a drug that we believe will be the total solution to citizen control. We call this drug Apathezak. It is a nanobotic-psychotropic compound that has successfully rendered every one of the subjects it has been administered to, with various degrees of apathy. It has proven to be, one hundred percent effective in creating catatonic individuals at the highest dosage and very docile, obedient workers, who have no independence or initiative at the lowest dose.”

   Frank paused momentarily, noting the fact that, all ears and eyes in the room were glued to him in avid anticipation. And so briefly collecting his thoughts, he carried on once again with, “Now, what we propose is, to take this drug and distribute it by way of the worlds water systems. In just a six-month time frame we can effect a whole new controlled society. It will be the complete solution to the Freedom Fighter movement, because we will distribute the highest dosages to those who have a technical education, rendering these individuals catatonic and no longer intelligent. Their abilities will be so absent, they will not even be able to take care of themselves, much less start another movement. The balance of the society will be given a variety of different doses, resulting in the perfect worker citizenry with an array of ability levels; none of which will be above that of the obedient laborer. No part of the civilization – with the exception of our own elite group – will have any independence or initiative and will certainly not take any part in running the world. The worker citizen will not do anything other than what they are trained and programmed to do. So as you can see, this program would effectively end our current crisis and would as well, prevent any future uprisings from occurring.” The Secretary of Health concluded in a verbal crescendo that evoked an explosion of applause from the crowd.

   Noland looked on, as he captured all this digitally and thought to himself with amazement, how they actually thought all of this was perfectly all right; his only conclusion was that they had all gone quite mad. He continued in his quest digitizing the meeting, all the while trying painstakingly to maintain non-detection by keeping all the nanobotic machinery well dispersed. So far he had been successful for almost two hours, although he already had three or four close calls. But just when he was beginning to think that he might just make it through the whole event undetected, a nano detector-scanner approached, scanning one of the attendees that he had infected. He didn’t spot it in time and suddenly the alarms were sounding, which sent him scrambling to erase all traces of his micro-electronic eavesdrop.

7:14:00-PM-012/23/2110

   Erik Land was urgently on his way to the captains deck; he had noted five instances of electronic interference in less than ten minutes and that was a lot more than what would normally be expected, even from inferior equipment, let alone anything that was state of the art. He had already alerted his direct senior via E-COM, but all that he got in response was that it was not that unusual, that he was over-reacting as he was new and not used to the way things operated. And so, not feeling satisfied, he had E-COMed the Captain of the Watch, requesting to discuss the matter with her directly.

   He made his way to the Zip-Elevator and took it up from level minus thirty-nine to plus ten, in just under one minute. Upon reaching his destination level, the doors opened quickly and he stepped out – feeling heavy and as if he were still travelling upward. He turned the corner and saw the captains-deck, thinking about the many reports he had made in which he had noted some very unusual occurrences. Now this was what he was supposed to do as part of his job per policy, but the attitude he got when he alerted his immediate superior was one of extreme complacency. He had just wanted him to file his daily reports and leave it at that. But to Erik the combination of oddities he had seen was way too strange to be normal.

   As soon as he reached the entryway of the Captain’s deck a soft but authoritative voice said, “Come on in Land.”

   He did so feeling self-conscious as – though he hated to admit it – he was to a high degree attracted to the Captain. “Hello Captain,” he uttered distractedly, trying desperately to be professional.

   “Please do have a seat,” She offered pointing to a comfortable looking air-chair. He did so and began to feel more relaxed and less vulnerable.

   “I was wondering if you had read the report I sent you earlier this evening?” He asked, becoming more focused.

   “Yes I did,” she replied calmly. “I want to thank you for being so attentive to your job, this is very commendable.”

   “Thank you,” he responded, feeling a combination of pride and nervousness at the same time.

   “I want to assure you that I am looking into these things further as a result of your report. We are, as you know, the number one top security prison, bar none. So it is important that we do check into each and every oddity, no matter how small. I am especially concerned about the numerous electronic interference incidents that you mentioned. I have appointed a small team to put in place a trace on all these disturbances and to compare them with any previous data that we may have,” the Captain stated with some seriousness.

   “I can’t tell you how much better that makes me feel to hear you say that. I have submitted many reports and was beginning to feel as if I really wasn’t being heard,” Erik stated with elation.

   “I can understand how that could be upsetting,” the Captain acknowledged, paused briefly, then resumed with, “One thing that I am really having a hard time with on this whole matter is, why nobody has forwarded any of this information to me on the proper channels?” She asked this question out loud, but seemed to be asking herself rather than Erik or anyone else for that matter. She looked thoughtful about it for a brief moment, then abruptly asked, “Is there anything else that you needed to see me about?”

   “Ah—I guess not,” he answered, feeling a resurgence of vulnerability.

   “All right then Land. Return to your post!” She commanded.

   “Yes Captain,” he responded, then complied by getting up and heading back the way he had come.

   Once he had left her quarters, she E-COMed the Sector-Four-Chief, Lands immediate senior. She told him all about the meeting with land and expressed her upset at not having been notified. She let him know as well that there was going to be an investigation into the matter and reports sent to the Secretary of Prisons.

   It took only a couple of minutes for her to receive a response from the Sector-Four-Chief via E-COMM. She could clearly see anger in his demeanor as he replied with, “Captain, I am shocked and surprised by this information as I have not been notified either. Co-workers are reporting to me that Land is quite a troublemaker, always trying to stir up problems and what not. EC (End Comm).”

   She sat there and considered his response for a time as streams of questions came up, seemingly in a flood. She decided that the situation was much worse than she had thought; the urgency to get busy and find out just exactly what was going on and fast, impelled her into prompt and vigorous action.

8:10:00-AM-12/24/2110

   Bill had now switched nearly all of the robotic equipment over to simulations. But he was having an awful time with the Psychiatric testing machinery, which had triple and sometimes quadruple back-up systems, that were very difficult to hack into. Nevertheless all of them had to be over-ridden in order to gain complete control. He was getting very worried that there might be someone at control that was catching on to him, as he had lately started picking up tracer signals throughout the system. These he had to be extremely careful around as any little signal – including the very tiny ones from nano-machinery – could be detected quite easily. This made his nearly impossible task all the more arduous. And this was just one of many projects he had going on. He was also constructing, via nano-manufacturing equipment, a powerful photon-radiation gun, which he would need in order to disable all L-1-Con communication systems.

   He had been working so diligently that he didn’t, at first, notice the telescoping snake like robot entering the top of his capsule, stealthily moving toward him. Upon becoming aware of it, he looked up abruptly and gaped in horror at the devilish machine. He knew in an instant that this was a lobotomatic-unit. He quickly pushed his terror aside and began frantically sending mental signals to all nearby nano-bots, commanding them for an all out attack to disable it quickly. His arms and legs were suddenly locked into place by the air chair he was sitting in, immobilizing him completely. He could feel a force field all around holding him. He felt as if he were a stone, as he could not even blink or move his lips. As he sat there, unable to move and barely able to think, the snake-like machine drew closer and closer.

   Bill kept his mind on the signals he was sending to the nano machines trying desperately to get his mind off of what he was experiencing. He was not at all sure that he could disable this unit before it did him in, but he kept working anyway in a last ditch effort.

   The snake machine was now upon him; looking into his eyes it did an eye-scan Identification. It touched his head and his whole body started becoming very cold and numb. He had already bypassed the initial system but had three more to go. But now he was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate as he kept finding his mind drifting to the snake-unit, which was attracting all of his attention like a black hole attracted all light. He realized almost unconsciously that he had bypassed the first back-up system, only two more to go. Two six inch electrode needles moved out from the end of the lobotomy machine, circled around to either side of his head and then headed slowly toward his temples. He knew that once these things entered his brain it would be all over for him.

9:35:00-AM-12/22/2110

   Noland had successfully, and just in the nick of time, destroyed all nano-tech equipment he had placed at the conference of the elite. He was reasonably sure that he had erased all signal traces, as he had triggered the self-destruction routine quickly and efficiently the very moment the alarms had went off. But because one could never be one hundred percent certain, he would now have to be on the look out and forever more a fugitive on the run. However he had all the information that he needed; the only thing left for him to do now was to compile it and then get it released on underground channels, before he was found out and caught.

   He had actually uncovered a two-hundred-year, double-sided plot to subvert and convert America. On the one side you had the all-science school of thought – who believed there existed only the material and there was no spirituality, no God nor need for any religion. And on the other side you had the all-is-God group – who believed that God was the only thing that mattered and that everything that was material was evil and was to be avoided and denied.

   It was plain to see that both sides were dead wrong in their far extremes. From the evidence that he had uncovered in his research and investigations, science and religion were mutually dependent and inter-related one upon the other. For one thing, science could never have been initiated without religion. A barbaric society that has no religion has no time to think of anything as advanced as science, as one is too busy struggling to avoid being robbed or killed by one of his fellow barbarians. The absolute stupidity of the idea that everything is matter and that the creation of the universe was nothing more than some kind of odd accident, is equally as ignorant as the idea that only God is allowed to be causative in nature and in the lives of men. At this time the group who had taken control was the material-no-God tribe; better known as the World Federation or The One World Order.

   There was now no longer any need for him to do accountant work. He had gathered sufficient information and the only thing that mattered now, was to distribute the truth of what was happening to as much of the populace as he could, in hopes of restoring the free nation of America and additionally all the other countries of the former free world. He felt an intense urgency in his crusade, as he was aware that far too little time remained.

   He of course continued in all of his actions in perfect everyday-form. Walking down fifty-seventh-street, heading for an area that was a secret gateway to an under ground community in a long abandoned subway system, he figured that he had approximately one week to accomplish what he needed to. If he was not successful the civilization would enter a state of no return, and freedom’s light would once again be shut off. It could be a very long time before it was ever turned back on – perhaps a millennium or two, possibly a whole lot longer than that. The thought of this happening impelled him forward; his intention became laser-direct and without the minutest thought that he could be stopped.

11:45:00-AM-12/24/2110

   Erik sat in his quarters feeling quite dispirited. He had been suspended from post until further notice and might possibly end up loosing his job all together. He was in big trouble and yet, he had no idea why, since he had simply been doing his job. He had received a very disturbing E-COMM a mere twenty-four hours after his meeting with the Captain of the Watch.

   “The alarming reports and communications to the Captain, have been found to be without validity and were made with the intention of causing trouble and trying to gain advantage over a senior!” The Sector Four Chief stated with marked hostility. This audio/video message was accompanied by a document-order stating that he was suspended, pending full investigation, the outcome of which could lead to dismissal. And all of this because he had merely reported what he had seen and thought it important enough to make sure that someone acted upon it. Maybe I tried too hard, he thought to himself. Maybe I was over-reacting and maybe I do not have the experience necessary, to know what is serious enough to be worried about. After all, this place has been operating for nearly two decades before I arrived, without a single mishap. But he certainly had not intended to cause trouble for anyone and he was not, in any way, trying to gain any kind of advantage.

    None of it made any sense to him and he knew that something was awry somewhere. He started to recall all of the dealings he had over the last three months with his senior and realized that that this man was very complacent about everything regarding his duties. He kept going over and over the whole situation in his mind, hoping to work it all out in some way or another.

   He absently flipped on the only survey-monitor he had there with him in his quarters and began to page through the inspection area that somebody else was now in charge of. At first he observed only what he normally saw as he perused the area, but as he passed area thirteen, something very definitely caught his eye. He went back to it right away. And there it was; so unmistakably obvious that he couldn’t figure out how he or anyone else had missed it before. In the middle of the screen was a long protruding object. He clicked on the building and equipment checklist for that area and tried to find any item that matched its description and location. He found none and so did an item inventory of that area. It took the system only twenty seconds to come back with a complete count of thirty-two hundred items. But – just as he had figured – the computer screen displayed: “WARNING! DISCREPANCY – THIRTEEN ADDITIONAL UNACCOUNTED FOR ITEMS FOUND! RED ALERT! NOTIFY ON ALL CHANNELS!”

   He complied immediately pressing the notify-on-all-channels button, upon which an abundant number of alarms sounded throughout L-1-Con.

1:05:00-PM-12/24/2110

   Bill Larantz had managed to stop the snake-like machine from carrying out its program instructions just as the two sharp brain electrodes entered the skin of his temples. However he had only stopped it temporarily and he was still locked down in place by its force field. He could feel the blood from his pierced temples slowly flowing down both sides of his face, but nevertheless, he went to work on getting the photon radiation gun completed. He was reasonably sure that if he had not already been detected, he would be very soon, as he had needed to amass too much nano-material in his local area in handling the snake machine.

   He frantically worked to program the final components of the gun; it was the only hope he had to keep himself alive. He had not known that his newer capsule-prison-cell model was pre-equipped with psychiatric testing machinery and that was why he had been taken by surprise. He realized that he had become just a bit too cocky in his endeavor; that attitude had nearly cost him his life and escape. As mental images – via the many nano-signal-transmitters – came to him from the gun locale, he saw the final components taking shape. He figured he needed only about twenty more minutes to complete it which was way too much time at this point, but there was no way to hasten the process.

   He worked desperately on, all the while, scanning for any detection signals from L-1-Con. The nano-timer he had set now signaled with, “Only nine-teen minutes to go.” He thought to himself that it was going to be agonizing getting through the next nineteen minutes. He tried to take his mind off of the time by working out all of the coordinates of the many communication dishes that he would have to take out with the gun, in order to cut the control station off from Lunar-One.

“Eighteen minutes to go,” a new signal communicated, piercing through his hectic activity. And though each moment that passed brought him closer to safety, he didn’t feel the least bit encouraged, but instead even more anxious. He was feeling more and more terror at the fact of being utterly immobile in the snake force field. He had always been claustrophobic in small spaces and was deathly afraid of getting into a situation where he could not move. So here he was, faced with his ultimate dread and he was beginning to succumb to it, his mental capacity getting less by the minute, as the fear took him over.

   Suddenly he realized that he had not been aware or thinking at all but was just staring into the snake machine void of mind. He wondered how much time had gone by. He was having an awful time trying to orient himself to the situation about him and the task at hand. And then the next signal communicated with, “Twelve minutes to go.” He was stunned; he had missed six minutes. Seeing that he had lost time impelled him back into action with renewed vitality. He quickly checked on the progress of the gun and was happy to see that everything – so far – was going according to plan. And right then – just as he was beginning to feel a little confidence – what he had been hoping would not happen, did. Without a moments notice a disturbing signal came through with, “WARNING NANO-BOTIC SIGNALS DETECTED BY CONTROL!” He quickly responded by scrambling and deflecting all communications, so as to keep them from discovering the source point, which was of course himself. He only hoped it would buy him enough time to complete construction, with enough left over to fire at and destroy all of the Comm-dishes. The next nano-bot signal came through with the communication, “Eleven minutes to go.”

3:05:00-PM-12/22/2110

   Noland realized that he was in fact being followed and that was very unusual, as nobody had ever put any kind of interested attention on him ever before. It was an experience he was totally unprepared for and he was not quite sure exactly how to handle it. He quickened his pace only to find his pursuers quickening as well. He turned a corner and was instantly at full scramble, running with all he could muster. He turned a second corner and bolted for yet a third. Upon reaching the third corner, he quickly slipped on a pair of motorized, super-eight-disk in-line-skates. He headed down the walkway, getting quickly up to the top speed of thirty-five kilometers per hour.

   He was sure that he had managed to evade the first set of pursuers; but knew as well and with equal certainty, that he had now been spotted and that there would now be hundreds hot on his trail. He looked about quickly in need of a place to hide and travel at the same time. He spotted and decided upon a cargo-bus that looked to be heading toward the city-central-subway and that was exactly where he needed to go. He reached it quickly, grabbed a-hold of the back end of it and carefully positioned himself uncomfortably beneath it. He was now out of site, travelling quickly, still riding on his skates. He held on tightly to the undercarriage of the bus as he unknowingly passed by his pursuers, who were still chasing after him but were heading in the wrong direction.

   The bus traveled about three miles and then came upon the entrance of the central subway system, which it entered. Because of the low level of light it was a little difficult to see, and so he waited for his eye’s to adjust, as he thought it unwise for him to do anything until he had some vision at least. The bus had now stopped as it was waiting in line for a cargo inspection – before being switched to rail-car mode and then routed to an out-of-state subway-line.

   Knowing that he could not stay where he was for very long, he slowly crept out from beneath the bus, all the while carefully surveying his surrounds, looking specifically for cameras and detection devices.

   He made his way to the far side of the bus where he was less likely to be spotted and decided to adjust the skates to no-travel mode, in which they would function as an everyday pair of shoes. He had to do this, because in travel mode he was more likely to fall, the noise of which could set off any number of security-alarm devices.

   He worked his way along the long line of cargo trucks and busses, keeping low and in the shadows where none would spot him. From time to time the vehicles would move simultaneously and he would ride one of them the short distance to the next stopping point. After some time he made his way to an opening on his side of the subway-line. Taking a telescoping-micro-cam from a compartment of his pack, he sent it to probe the opening looking for security equipment. Sure enough there were three cameras and an array of detection electronics as well. He decided that because of the positions of the equipment, he would have to crawl on the ground in an almost flat position along the base of the wall that lied below the opening. He inched his way slowly and carefully making no sudden moves.

   Once he was on the other side and well beyond the range of the security devices he stood back up slowly while checking ahead making sure there was nothing there to spot him, not finding anything, he continued on. He noticed that from time to time he came across sections of the ceiling that had once housed cameras, which were now absent – probably due to lack of funds and budget cuts. This area was one of the most non-maintained sections of the city.

   Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, Nolan remembered the time when he and Stasha had celebrated their second anniversary. It was one of the most memorable moments they had shared together; and for sure the one he personally cherished most of all. They had both taken a day off from work to spend some time together. The day started bright and early in the morning when they awoke and made spontaneous love together. After that they had taken a shower, got dressed, then walked hand in hand along the city streets, talking and enjoying the beautiful morning and each other. They eventually stumbled upon a restaurant that they had never been to before and had the most wonderful breakfast. As they ate they had discussed many things and laughed until their sides hurt. The friendliness of the staff and atmosphere of the café; the great aroma and taste of the rich coffee; the delicious food and their incredible love for each other, all blended together for what could be considered no less than a perfect early day.

   After breakfast they had continued walking, sometimes stopping to shop at various specialty shops or antique stores they had found along the way. Everything seemed magically perfect that day. It was impulsive, unplanned and yet it all occurred as if in accordance with some design. It was as though nothing they did that day could possibly go wrong. They did not have lunch; but instead had snacked at a couple of street-side-food-vendors. In the early afternoon they came upon an old, quite charming, used book store and ended up spending the rest of the daylight hours there. They eventually found a few books each; purchased and read them together, conversing intermittently.

   Later, when the sun had set and the city lights shined bright, they had found a comfortably quaint and not-too-expensive restaurant and had another unforgettable meal. Following that, they had caught a play called “Fire-Water”, which had the most innovative music along with a completely unusual but intriguing plot. It was the story of an Indian woman who saved her tribe from the many vices of the arriving European civilization by educating them about what she had seen happen to tribes further east. They had enjoyed the play very much.

   Returning home following the play they had lain together talking for some hours. And he would never forget what they had said to each other just before falling asleep in each others arms: “You are my reward in life,” Noland said to her with utmost affinity and tenderness.

   “You make me feel like the most precious and valuable jewel on earth,” Stasha responded with complete sincerity. In slumber they held each other tight.

   The memory was very clear and vivid and Noland could feel a strong tightness in his throat and tears welling up in his eyes, from the intense pain of his loss.

1:10:00-PM-12/24/2110

   Very shortly after the alarms had been sounded, Erik was suddenly no longer suspended, but was instead called to post on emergency all hands. He had then rushed, along with everyone else, to the control hub; the scene there was total pandemonium. The Captain began a series of orders with, “Has anyone identified what the discrepancy items are?” And when no one answered she immediately turned to her Second-in-Command and barked, “I NEED THIS HANDLED RIGHT NOW!” She walked quickly to the Captain of the Watch control box and spoke into the microphone, “Sector Three through Six personnel listen up. I need half of you to do inventories in your sections and the other half to do signal traces. Get on it now!”

   Erik had expected the Sector-Four-Chief to be relaying orders to the Sector-Four-personnel; but instead it was a different person altogether; someone that he had not met before.

   “All right gang, you heard the Captain,” the person began but noticed immediately the questioning looks in their eye’s and knowingly answered it with, “I’m Franz Bova, Technical Specialist L-1-Con. Your Sector Chief is currently unavailable with other matters, so I will be your temporary Chief.” He turned and looked directly at Erik and said to him, “Land, since you’re the one that discovered this discrepancy, I want you to be in charge of the inventory identification detail, ok?”

   “Yes Sir,” he responded, feeling triumphant as he had now gone from bad guy to hero in one fell swoop. He had the feeling that the Sector-Four-Chief was in some serious trouble.

   “I am going to call out the following names, those of you that I call will follow Erik as members of his team.” Franz paused briefly and was about to begin calling out names, but was interrupted by the blare of a much more dangerous, deep sounding alarm.

   “WHAT NOW!” The captain yelled in frustration.

   “Captain we have just detected nanobotic signals in sector five,” the Second in Command reported nervously.

   “OH GOD!” The Captain responded, looking sick with worry. For a moment or two she was in too much shock and did not say anything, she quickly recovered however, and gave a single order to all of L-1-Con over the I-Comm. “ALL RIGHT! CANCEL THE PREVIOUS ORDERS, I WANT ALL PERSONNEL, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF SYSTEM ADMINISTRATORS, TRACKING THE SOURCE OF THESE SIGNALS AND I WANT THIS FOUND IMMEDIATELY!” She gave a different order to the systems administrators, “What I need from you is a complete override of all L-1 and L-1-Con systems! Do you understand?”

   The administrators responded in unison with, “Yes Captain!”

1:23:00-PM-12/24/2110

   The next message came through with, “Two minutes to go.” Bill sat there still frozen, desperately trying to evade the signal trackers, which were getting closer and closer by the minute. At first it hadn’t been too difficult, as there were not very many of them and he could easily throw them off by sending signals out from several different places simultaneously. But now there were hundreds and hundreds and it was quickly becoming impossible to keep up with each and every one of them. Nevertheless, he kept working at it, hoping against all hopes that he could somehow hold them off for the next minute and a half, using nearly all of his signal nano-bots to produce decoy transmissions. When the gun was finalized the coordinates for the Comm-Dishes were pre-programmed and ready for it to fire on automatically.

   “One minute to go,” the next message informed. He decided that in this last minute, he would not send from himself nor receive any further communications via the remaining nano-signalers. To do this, he would have to clear his mind and think about absolutely nothing, as each thought he had would be a transmission that could be traced. And so he sat there staring at the snake machine, keeping all of his attention on it and the few other things that were directly in front of his line of vision. His attention was totally outward and he noticed the colors and shapes of the various objects about the capsule. He was aware also of the silence that permeated the small space, his body position, weight, the temperature and even his immobility. Despite being aware of all these things, he did not think a single thought, but instead remained cognizant of himself and everything around him.

   And then the final message came through, “CONSTRUCTION AND INITIALIZATION COMPLETE! ALL SYSTEMS GO! TARGETS LOCKED ON! FIRING NOW!” Despite the good news of the message, Bill continued to just be aware, not conceiving a single thought in regards to it.

6:15:00-PM-12/22/2110

   Noland had managed to exit out of the cargo subway tunnel by crawling into a partially open air-vent, located near the ground. He had to make sure to place the grated iron vent cover on more securely once inside, so as to be less suspect. He crawled along in the vent channel for nearly two hours before coming to a section that had an opening in the wall. The opening led to the old and forgotten New York subway system which had been constructed in the early twentieth century, but abandoned and unused for nearly fifty years now. The hole, though big, was not quite large enough for him to get through and so he had to take the small hammer that he carried in his pack and use it to slowly chip away laboriously at the hard concrete in order to enlarge it. It took more than an hour to get the hole to size. He then placed an anchor in the concrete of the vent chamber floor and tied his rope to it. He threw the rope into the opening and then, holding onto the rope, carefully maneuvered his body out of the vent chamber and began climbing down towards the bottom. He was perhaps two-thirds of the way down when the anchor unexpectedly came loose and he fell the remaining seven feet. He was completely taken by surprise, his heart racing fast, but luckily he was not injured at all.

   Once he had picked himself up, gathered all of his equipment together, checked to make sure that he had not lost anything and that nothing had been damaged, he began following the subway track in a southerly direction. He was heading for an area that was about five miles from where he now was, a place secretly known as Underworld Control. It was one of the last vestiges of liberty from which the freedom fighter movement operated. He had

About the Author

Rick Phipps was born in 1964 in Denver Colorado, and grew up in and around Longmont and Berthoud Colorado. He moved to California in 1983 where he lived for ten years in Blythe on a ranch that had no electricity. There he helped power a small community with Photovoltaic Solar arrays. He also built solar ovens, grew hydroponic tomatoes, and built solar water heaters. He moved to Orange County in 1998 to join staff at the Church of Scientology of Orange County. He then moved to San Francisco and and was a staff member at the local Church of Scientology. From 2006-2009. He now resides in Dallas and is a staff member there.

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