The second issue of the Reasonably Priced Comics anthology is now available, and I can promise that the issue’s price agrees with the book’s title and that the book is more than worth the money. This issue has three short stories, including the ongoing tale Voyaga by series editor Brandon Barrows.

Before jumping into the reviews of the individual stories, let me quickly say that the cover art is absolutely incredible. I’ve been paying close attention to artist Ionic’s cover work, and I can’t get enough of it.

Voyaga – In this issue, we see lead character Dean Kirkland in a version of Earth in the distant future that has survived what appears to be the end of mankind. All of man’s architecture is left behind, but decay has set in over the hundreds of years since the construction of these buildings.

Voyaga continues the tradition of many science fiction stories like Planet of the Apes and I am Legend with the lone man facing a deserted world, and the short story reads like a scene from a novel. Barrows uses heavy narration to give readers a peek into the mind of the character, and the use of the first-person point of view throughout gives the text a sense of immediacy.

Artist Ionic simply kills on art, and his illustration of future environments and oversized, feral house pets is very entertaining. Even in moments of quiet exploration, the art catches the reader’s attention with an unusual angle or an extra level of detail. Barrows and Ionic work well together, allowing the art and the text to comment on one another without simply feeling repetitive.

My Way – Leppy Jooker would be a washed-up Vegas headliner if he were human. Instead, he’s an alien performer at the Starlight lounge in deep space, and he’s in trouble. Leppy only has a week to pay back his loan shark.

The art on this story is more cartoony than the first story, and it suits the mood of the light-hearted tale of heists and mobsters. Artist Robert Durham does a great job including a variety of aliens in music clubs in a Star Wars type manner.

There is a lot of text to squeeze into these panels, and the art felt a bit crowded at times. And even though the ending of the story was not really a surprise, Leppy is an entertaining character with wonderful dialogue. My favorite part of this entire story is the bits of lyrics we read from some of his hit songs, including the line “And that’s why there’s no ‘I’ in space.” No real explanation… it’s just there. And I love that type of humor.

The Communicators – The Communicators is mostly a silent tale showing the two men who lead virtually identical lives with drastically different attitudes. I don’t want to say too much about the plot in fear that I would ruin it for you, but the story is worth a close study. The story says a lot about man in very few words.

The creative team of Nichols and Calloway make great use of the page to show the duality of man. Readers can visually compare these two men through a series of snapshots all the way through their lives.

Final Verdict

Issue 2 of Reasonably Priced Comics is a strong anthology with solid stories and a great variety of themes. Check out Reasonably Priced Comics, and pick up an issue.

Ok, so this guy thinks he can actually change the past through a fancy computer program? From the trailer, it seems as if he isn’t actually going and experiencing the past; it’s just a digital recreation of events. But that’s really the fun of this whole movie. Are these experiences real or not?

Jake Gyllenhaal is certainly no stranger to sci-fi / fantasy films, with Prince of Persia, The Day After Tomorrow, and Donnie Darko under his belt. And Michelle Monaghan has several action films to her name, including the film Eagle Eye, which seems to share a similar tone to Source Code. Both films appear to be high-action, modern-day sci-fi romps, and both films seem to have a mass appeal that extend beyond the geek culture.

I’m embarrassed to admit as a sci-fi nerd that I still haven’t seen Moon, director Duncan Jones’ previous film. From what I’ve heard, Jones certainly has the talent to make his newest film work, but Source Code is vastly different than his previous effort.

What do you think? Is Jones perfect for the job? Will Monaghan and Gyllenhaal have a better chemistry than she did with Shia LeBouf in Eagle Eye? (I hope so!) Let us know in the comments below.

The movie Paul seems like it’s been getting some good reviews from critics so far, and it looks like it could be a ton of fun for a geek like me. With sci-fi usually attempting a serious, dreary tone, it’s exciting to see something as whimsical as Paul, yet with adult comedy rather than the sitcom-friendly humor of shows like Eureka. I am a huge fan of both Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, so I have high hopes that actors Simon Pegg and Nick Frost will deliver some wacky laughs in Paul.

Have you see Paul yet? Are you considering seeing it theaters? Make a comment below.

Skipjack is a webcomic / comic book that I found at the recent New Orleans Comic Con. Written by Ryan Christopher Lord and drawn by John Stephen Lord, Skipjack is the story of a human crew of pirates in space. No, not “of the Caribbean” type, but the type that is only a step removed from Han Solo in Star Wars and the crew of the Firefly from Joss Whedon’s TV and movie series.

I bought the first printed issue of the series, but it is available to read over at Registration Comics for free. This is the type of book that I am happy to have in my collection and not just on the computer screen because of the quality of the art. Strong coloring can make a tremendous difference in the look and feel of a series, and Skipjack looks amazing. On a couple of occasions, the sunflare effect is used with fantastic results, and the art switches between subdued, secretive color schemes and bright, explosive color schemes at the right moments.

Most importantly to me, Skipjack has a strong storyline filled with twists and intrigue along the way. I was particularly by the characters. The captain of the ship has a roguish charm that easily compares with Han Solo and Mal Reynolds, but he is still his own man. He is active when he needs to be but happy to let his crew shine in their skill areas.

Buying indie books at a convention is always a bit risky, and I was very happy that Skipjack turned out to be so much fun.

Free Mars

Free Mars is a punk rock gritty sci-fi story of the futuristic rock band The Sisters Grimm. After their new hit song was picked up as the anthem of the revolutionary group Mars Liberation Front (MLF for those keeping track), the Sisters are forced into hiding.

Free Mars is a fun comic that is tongue-in-cheek about many of its sci-fi names of places and groups (like Amazonis Prime), but they also consciously work on the linguistics of this future culture with different words for time and expressions of praise and curses. My favorite is the use of the word “sol” as an indication of time, complete with variants like “lastsol.”

The story is, at times, humorous and also action-packed. The creators of the comic are easily able to switch back and forth between whimsical moments and full-on scenes of war between the MLF and the government in control.

Free Mars should be intended for an older audience than Skipjack, but both comics are great examples of sci-fi webcomics.

Critters.org – The Critters Workshop describes itself as “an on-line workshop/critique group for serious Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror writers.” You’ve got to actually do some work to be involved in this group, but I believe it’s worth it. Each member must complete at least one review per week in order to keep the community viable. I haven’t had one of my stories reviewed yet, but I have been able to review one and to begin some interesting conversations with other authors online. If you’re like me, you probably have trouble finding friends and family willing to take a look at the latest stories after reading so many in the past. Give them a break, take it online.

Bubbl.us – Bubbl.us makes my inner organizational nerd squeal with delight. They describe their service as “a simple and free web application that lets you brainstorm online.” It’s a quick and easy way to create a diagram to get all of those ideas out on a screen. You can let your ideas branch off in any direction, and you can even color code the levels to make it more quickly accessible. I mapped out a plotline using Bubbl.us, and I’m hooked. Imagine how many scraps of paper I’m going to save.

An executive on the run from the law has to make some new friends if she is going to avoid the authorities. Sci-Fi Corporate Crime.

With their pulses pounding in their ears, Madeleine and the stranger ran. They were ill prepared for a sport of such vigor, but the threat of pursuit overrode their former agendas. The business woman and the shabby man had arrived at the market separately, but they fled together in the opposite direction of the patrolling World Union enforcers.

Their feet splashed through the puddles in the streets as their legs churned with urgency. Madeleine would have laughed under different circumstances. “A drought for twenty years, and now we have so much extra water we let it pool up,” she thought to herself. She had never been in Newhaven, and she had been quite surprised at the priorities of the politicians in this dying town. Shops and homes stood in ruins, but a few basic provisions in excess were supposed to cure all ails.

Madeleine’s now slippery designer boots gave out as she rounded the corner of the next pock-marked brick building, and she panicked as she fell. The stranger was so close behind her that he could not avoid catching her. He fought to get her back on her feet, but not before Madeleine was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of stale sweat on his body. For a woman that prided herself on first class living, she would have to lower her standards if she was going to get any help from this man.

In fact, she didn’t even know if he was willing to help her. She had not had time to work any of her charms on him, but he had been more than willing to join in her run at the sight of armed World Union officers. Citizens with outstanding warrants always tried to escape the reach of WU scanners. The devices were worn on officers’ forearms, and they continually checked DNA patterns of individuals within a three hundred meter radius against patterns of suspects. The man who ran with Madeleine now was certainly not innocent and perhaps quite dangerous, but this kind of man might know the best way out of a dirty little city like this through some illicit means of transportation.

As Madeleine continued to scheme, she heard her newly acquired companion wheezing. She led the two of them into a covered corner of an alleyway and tried to let him catch his breath before the next break for cover. Upon closer inspection, the corner was covered in large splotches of black mold and reeked of sewage. “What a lovely town,” Madeleine thought to herself.

Half hunched over, the man looked as though he were ready to collapse. Large spots of sweat showed through his already stained shirt. Madeleine was beginning to doubt that this was the mastermind criminal she had envisioned when he coughed twice then vomited all over the pavement beneath them.

“How much did you have to eat?” she asked.

He coughed and vomited bile in response.

“All right. I think I can find my way from here on my own.”

He spit to get the taste out of his mouth and said, “You never flown in space before?”

“Sure. I took an orbit trip once. I was fine.”

“Not a pleasure cruise, dammit,” he said as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m talking about running deliveries to Jupiter’s moons on a freighter.”

“Jupiter?”

“Yeah. Takes a while. Re-entry to Earth gravity is a bitch.”

The man poked his head back out into the alleyway. Once he was assured it was clear, he set the pace this time. Madeleine looked back to see if anyone had spotted them, but the streets were still empty. She had seen enough police drama vids to know that the officers were not finished with their pursuit but only waiting on their backup. The hover carriers were probably rounding up scores of officers right now. Soon enough, the narrow streets would be covered with armor clad police toting “shock sticks” and laser pistols.

Keeping any tone out of her voice that might betray her, Madeleine asked, “Are you freighter pilot or something?”

“Naw, just a deck hand. At least I was, before the WU cracked down on IGS. A handful of pricks cost me my job and made me a suspect.”

Madeleine had been following the news very closely. She knew all about the Inter-Galactic Shipping scandal. Corporate executives were caught in collaboration with black market czars from all over the world. IGS provided cheap, safe transportation for any sort of cargo: in this case illegal drugs, weapons, and any other contraband that needed to get out to the newly settled planets. In exchange, several prominent members of the underworld granted special favors to the company. Sometimes payment came in huge cash bonuses; other times IGS was granted a greater dominance of the industry through “unfortunate accidents” befalling competing shipping companies.
The stranger slowed his pace on the street before bending down to squeeze between two crumbling walls. Madeleine fought back her apprehension and did her best to follow. She hated tight spaces, and she only barely managed to get through the tendrils of rusted beams and piles of rubble without her ripping her leather jacket.

She had already been lucky today. WU agents had raided the IGS corporate headquarters that very morning and had apprehended nearly all of the responsible parties in the scandal, but Madeleine had been on vacation with a certain someone. She had lied about a tour of the Orient in order to protect her lover’s marriage, and now she had spent the day distancing herself from anyone who could recognize her and turn her in. Professions of love were so easily rebuked amidst promises of fame and fortune for the correct informer.

Though less than a day old, the IGS scandal was quickly the crown jewel in the World Union’s Re-Beautification Project. With Earth realty plummeting, the Union had unanimously voted on a stern effort to clean up the planet: both physically and ethically. If the Union could at least present an illusion of safety, property value would once again skyrocket like it had in the days of old, before off-planet residences came in vogue. Therefore, anyone who even worked with IGS would be detained to determine the extent of corruption inside the company. IGS would be an example, and anyone with information would be richly rewarded. In fact, if Madeleine’s current guide through the city knew that she were responsible for his current unemployment and trouble with the law, he could turn her in and probably walk away a free man… a rich free man.

A personnel carrier swooped just over the rooftops of the buildings surrounding the alleyway. The man in front of Madeleine took off at a dead sprint. Shocked at the sudden burst of speed, she did her best to keep up. Was he trying to lose her? Madeleine exercised at all of the best gyms, but she had decided as a young woman that she wasn’t built for endurance training.

She followed her guide into an even narrower entryway, and they squeezed between two buildings. Halfway down the dark corridor, he stopped. Madeleine thought that the man was frustrated or that he was going to be sick again. He started banging on the wall, and Madeleine backed up for the next round of vomiting.

Surprisingly enough, the wall popped open, and a surly man in a dirty t-shirt pulled the two of them inside. Even after he had shut the door, the man never said a word. He put his back to the door, folded his arms across his chest and stared at the two of them.

“H-hello,” Madeleine stammered out. “Thank you for your help…”

From off to the side, a booming voice cut her attempt at friendliness, “Gavin! You finally back on planet to stay a little while?!”

Madeleine glanced over to look at the man. Knowing a man’s name put him in a completely different light. “Gavin, huh? What kind of crowd have you been running with?” she thought to herself.

With a sour face, Gavin replied, “Yeah, Pits. Thought I’d swing by and see how you’re doing.”

Madeleine heard the coarse laughter. She was surprised to see how skinny the appropriately named Pits actually was. His large voice had apparently belonged to a man who used to weigh much more, but the telltale signs of Dry Well Syndrome were obvious. A sort of perpetual dehydration sucked out the moisture from one’s body, leaving a person with a gaunt, hollow look. Such people were always hooked to a medical unit similar to Pits’.

“So those WU personnel carriers overhead have nothing to do with your decision to stop by?” Pits jeered from his ratty couch. The faded green upholstery fought to keep the springs and cushions inside.

“I thought that, maybe for old times’ sake, you could help me out this once,” Gavin replied. Madeleine started to see the lines in his face and how the years were wearing on him when he spoke to Pits.

“You know Pits doesn’t do nothing for free, old man. Medical bills don’t pay themselves.” To emphasize his point, Pits wound the tubes of his hydration machine around his fingers as though they were loose threads.

Madeleine could see where this was going. She stepped in, “We need your help, and we’re willing to pay substantially for it.”

“What kind of scam you got this time, Gavin? You were normally just a muscle kind of guy, not a hustler.”

“I’ve hired him as my muscle,” she snapped.

Gavin vomited again. She pressed on without acknowledging his inability to intimidate.

“You can see the situation. Neither of us wishes to be apprehended. I’ll give you one thousand credits right now to get us out of here.”

Now Pits laughed again. “One thousand? You can’t expect me to go against the WU for less than ten.”

Madeleine laughed this time. “Ten? Are you paying for the city’s WU officers yourself?”

She loved a good negotiation.

Pits’ face grew red. “Yeah. Ten. They can kick me off this little planet just as quickly as they can kick you off.”

“But, that’s where you’re wrong. They’ll kick me off so that they can strip me of my privileges and my considerable finances, but you have nothing worth taking. You’re not worth their effort unless you’ve raped someone or something. I’ll give you five to get us out of here.”

“I’m not doing nothing for less than eight. You can get your little stuck-up ass caught for all I care.”

“Seven.”

“Seven-five.”

She pulled out the credit chips and tossed them to the man on the couch. He slapped them into a scanner. “Christopher Yaeger, huh? That supposed to be you?”

She smiled, “No. That’s supposed to be an untraceable identity. His background will check out, and you’ve got no risk. Happy shopping.”

Pits scowled at her. “High society doesn’t like to get its hands dirty. Who did this for you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just get us out of here.”

The scrawny man used the slender plastic credit chips to tap out a steady rhythm in the palm of his hand. “Who are you?”

Madeleine shifted, “I’m someone who’s in a hurry, and we need to move this along.”

“I need to know what I stand to lose. Maybe you’re just running ‘cause you cheated on your taxes, but maybe you killed somebody. That makes a big difference. A murderer’s a lot harder to hide,” Pits explained.

He began to pace within the range that his medical equipment would allow. He took his time, enjoying the discomfort of his potential business partners. “I’ve taken a lot of time to build up my connections, my reputation, all of that. Why are you worth the risk?”

She was losing her patience. “Listen, you arrogant little toothpick! I have to get…”

A loud banging on the door cut her off. The amplified voice rang through the building from the unseen forces outside. “World Union! We’re authorized to come in, so get down on the ground and put your hands on the back of heads.”

Pits smiled. “They’re probably planting small explosives now. The alleyway is too narrow to allow for a battering ram, but the blast charges are just as effective. That door will blow off, and you’re going to have a lot of questions to answer. Or,” he stretched out the word to bring the maximum dramatic tension. Madeleine hated him as he did. “Or you can just tell me. What does it matter now?”

Gavin made a gesture that said, “Get on with it, and let’s get out of here.”

If she told now, Gavin might just leave her here, or he might be the first to turn her in. Looking around at the hell hole where he used to work, Madeleine could see how far he had come. Apparently, he had been in trouble with the law before, but he had gotten himself on the right track. He contributed to society. He was actually a decent person, but getting arrested now would only drag up the past and make things even more complicated for someone with a prior record.

A scraping sound at the door reminded her of her other option. She was guilty for embezzling, aiding and abetting in smuggling and in planning corporate espionage and sabotage.

She looked back to Pits. He had a gleam in his eye as he saw that she was ready to break. She could hear the explosives technician giving the warning for everyone to clear the door.

“All right,” she nearly screamed. Even Pits took a step back. “I helped embezzle money at a corporate level. I was one of the executives involved in a plot to manipulate an entire company, but I saw the news this morning. I saw IGS get taken down, and I knew the same thing could happen to us. I took my share and told my partners I was out. I realized that my actions could hurt too many people if I kept going with all of the lies.”

The best deception contains bits of truth.

Pits smiled in victory. Gavin looked on with sympathy. Madeleine looked back with a continued act of defeat.

The first small explosive on the door popped.

Pits got down to the ground and instructed the pair. “Gavin, you know the way to the chute. Get her out of here.”

They scrambled through the small opening in an instant, and Gavin pulled the hatch shut just before the troops stormed into the building. They climbed down a ladder quickly and fled through a series of connecting tunnels. Looking backwards every few minutes, they sloshed through ankle deep sludge until they reached another series of ladders. They climbed down another set to hide even deeper within the bowels of the city.

Madeleine looked to her exhausted partner, “I’m so glad that I met you. I could have never done this on my own.”

“You could have told me you had that kind of money earlier. Anybody can get out of trouble in a hundred different ways with credits like that to throw around.”

“A woman never reveals all of her secrets.”

Gavin looked ahead at the endless circuitry of tunnels spread out before them. “It must have been difficult to leave your partners behind.”

Madeleine thought of her colleagues who were, no doubt, sitting in a WU detention cell at this moment. She refrained from smiling as she said, “I knew that we were heading in a bad direction, and I just couldn’t be a part of it any more.

“Gavin, once you get me out of here, I think I can find my way out of this town. But I’ve got a couple of thousand credits to thank you for your troubles.”

“You don’t need to pay me. I didn’t really do that much.”

Looking at Gavin with one of her killer business sale smiles, Madeleine replied, “I like to settle my debts. Just accept it as a heartfelt thank you.”

*Please see Part 1 to get the full story so far. In summary, Steve has been ripped out of his normal life and recruited to fight untrained in a battle for the city of Charlotte, NC.

Steve smiled meekly, “As long as there’s no pressure…”  He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants legs, “So, when do I train?”

The driver answered, “It’s not so much training as it is a briefing.”

The woman next to Steve made a sympathetic face, “Yes, unfortunately we do not have much time, so we’ll have to keep things simple.”

She reached inside a leather carrying bag on the floorboard that Steve had not previously noticed. She handed him a sleek metallic object, “The first order of business is your communicator.  One of your primary assignments will be to observe the movements of the enemies.”

“What do the… enemies look like?” Steve asked meekly.

The driver laughed and answered again, “You’ll know ‘em when you see ‘em.  Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Steve thought to himself.  “Sure, you just threw me in this cop car with freakin’ female David Copperfield and told me that I’m already dead, that I have a war to fight, and there’s some kind of monsters coming to Charlotte.  What do I have to worry about?”

Steve did not actually voice any of his concerns, however.  He made sure that he used his limited time to pick up on any instructions the woman beside him gave.  Steve didn’t even have a name for this woman.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I know that you are having trouble grasping the situation, but I already told you this information,” the woman answered.  “We are members of an elite security –”

“No.  What’s your names?” Steve clarified.

“Oh.  In your tongue, my name is Candelaria.  The helpful gentleman in the front is Josh, and this is Carmen.”

Carmen turned around and fixed her deep blue eyes on Steve.  Now that she was focused on him, her stare took his breath away. Her eyes carried a message: she actually cared if he lived or died through this night.  He was glad to see it in someone’s eyes.

“So are all of you people who would have died just like me?” Steve asked.

Candelaria was already handing him another object: something in the shape of a gun, but unlike any gun he had ever seen.  It was small and shaped like a nine millimeter handgun, but it had enough buttons on the side to remind Steve of his smart-phone on his belt.  He reached down out of habit, but his holster was empty.   Candelaria said, “I’m afraid we’ll have to have the rest of our informative chat a little later.  We only have a few hours before we get here, and we need to get you into position.  This is your spatial disruptor.”

“Okay…” Steve replied.

She continued, “There are different settings, but you should just point and shoot.  The disruptor sends the invading forces back to where they came from, and it gives them a pretty nasty headache when they awaken.”

Steve thought to himself, “I’ve got this whole war thing figured out for you.  The reason you’re losing it is because you actually have to kill your enemies, not just give them headaches.”  But he said nothing.  Instead, he tucked the disruptor into his belt – just like he had seen actors do on all of those cop movies.

Candelaria also handed him a thin vest, “This will give you some protection, but the best protection is to not get shot.  We’re not here to kill every one of the Mkhai that we see…”

“Mkhai?” Steve interrupted.

“The enemy.  Again, we’ll go through the entire story another time.”  Candelaria pulled her brown hair back into a pony tail.  She explained, “Our main purpose is to keep them from obtaining their goals.  They can only keep their passageway to this world open for a short time.  If we can keep them from gaining a stronghold in the city, then they will be forced to retreat or be stuck here in this realm.”

The car stopped at what was normally a busy intersection in Charlotte, but it was now only two in the morning.  “Come on,” she told Steve.

They got out of the car, and they walked over to one of the four statues that stood proudly at the corners of Trade and Tryon.  Two men and two women, one with a child in hand, all sat carved in stone atop their bases. Steve pointed up at the closest statue of a prospector and said, “So I guess you’re going to tell me that these statues are actually interstellar communicator devices.  I have to guard these ancient symbols of power from the angry hordes of wherever world.  Is that my job?”

Candelaria suppressed a small smile.  She replied, “No.  Both of these streets are major thoroughfares.  I want you to guard the intersection, not the statues.  But they are pretty, so don’t let the Mkhai knock them down if you can help it.   Now, take your shirt off.”

“What?” Steve wondered what this new part of the assignment was.

“Your shirt.  Take it off.  You need to have your vest against your chest.  There are important sensors that feed directly into your biological systems.  Also, the vest renders your entire body invisible to the human eye.  We keep our battles to the shadows.”

“Okay,” he said.  Feeling a little self-conscious with his few chest hairs blowing in the cool night air, he changed into the vest and then hurriedly put his shirt back on.  The vest felt like a spandex shirt, and it stretched tight across his pudgy stomach.  He felt ridiculous.

“There,” she said.  “Now, stay sharp and report anything suspicious.”

He looked around and saw no one that looked menacing in any way.  “So how long do I have to wait?”

“They’ll probably come out for the next dense passage of people,” she replied as she stepped toward the car.

“Next dense passage…?  You mean rush hour?” he asked.
She nodded.

“But that’s like six hours away.  How am I supposed to stay awake the whole time?  I worked a thirteen-hour day yesterday.”

By this point, she was already in the car and on her way to the next posting of soldiers.  Steve considered how foolish it would be for a grown man to pout, so he did his best not to indulge too much in that childish behavior.

By three a.m., he had already forgotten that the vest made him invisible, so he was rather surprised when the passing police officers did not even notice him suspiciously loitering at one of the main intersections in town.  Steve had remembered the weapon on his belt and had nearly panicked as the officers drove by.  When they didn’t even cast a glance his direction, he finally remembered.  He felt more than a little foolish.

At six a.m., Candelaria’s voice in the communicator piece jolted Steve awake.  Set in his right ear, the communicator had been set too loud and gave Steve shades of a migraine.  He got the earpiece adjusted in time to hear Candelaria checking off with the soldiers.

“Josh?” she barked.

“Clear.  No activity near the university,” he replied.  He had a cool, smooth voice.  He must have done these missions so many times that it was second nature to him.

“Carmen?” Candelaria called.

“Getting a little traffic stirring up, but no sightings,” she replied.

“Steve?”

“Nothing,” he replied groggily.

“Have you been asleep?”  She sounded angry.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.  I’ll check back in at seven.  If anyone sees something before then, report immediately.”

“Ten-four,” the other two replied.

“Okay,” Steve said, immediately wishing that he had been able to reply with the same cool army-talk as the others.

By six-thirty, Steve was sitting again, this time at the edge of a fountain.  The only hazards that he had encountered so far was someone trying to toss change into the fountain.  The woman had thrown the coins directly at him, and he had hurried to dodge the projectiles lest they bounce off his invisible body before splashing in the water.

Steve’s stomach rumbled, and he remembered an incredible bagel shop that was only a block or two from here.  It probably wouldn’t take that long to get over there, and he could be back in time for the boogie men.

“I’ve got them,” Carmen called out over the headpiece.  “Two groups of four.  They’re keeping themselves separated.  Can’t tell who the leader of the pack is.  Switching to sniper disruptor.”

“Sniper disruptor?” Steve thought.  “Do I have one of those?”

He looked at his own gun, and he didn’t see any buttons or wording that indicated that this was one of those specialized disruptors.  He nearly dropped his regular disruptor as he heard bursts of thunder ring out over his headset.

“They’re returning fire!  Returning fire!” Steve’s headset barked.  “Two of them are down, but I have six closing on my position.  Not sure if they have reinforcements in the area.”

Candelaria’s voice cut into the line, “Keep them distracted.  Lead them away from their target.  I am coming to your position.”

Josh’s bass voice jumped in as well, “My bogies already have their weapons pulled.  I’m switching over to engage.”

His comments were also followed with the thunderous rapport of disruptor fire.

By this point, Steve’s palms were so sweaty that he struggled to keep the disruptor from slipping out of his hands.  He looked frantically back and forth, expecting a vision from the worst horror movie to jump out and take him down at any second.  He alternated hands in holding his disruptor so that he could wipe the sweat on his pants.  As his gaze swept the sidewalks, his eyes finally came to rest on a small group of individuals.  Josh had been right.  Even though Steve had never seen the Mkhai, he knew them on sight.

Each individual looked to be eight feet tall, and their skin was… well, their skin looked like scales instead of skin: silver scales.  Their features looked human, but these creatures were just too big.  A black suit of something that looked like rubber covered their entire bodies except for one arm.  Either the left or right arm of each warrior was completely encased in a blood red device that Steve had never seen before.  The device ended in an over exaggerated metallic hand with blade-like fingers.

The Charlotte-resident-turned-novice-soldier reached a trembling hand up to his communicator piece.  There was a talk button here somewhere, but Steve couldn’t remember which button it was.  The Mkhai walked straight towards the intersection.  Even though Steve was petrified, no one else on the street even seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.  In fact, others made room for the group as though they were simply another set of pedestrians in for another day of work.  What appeared like normal chatter to other people looked to Steve like sharks picking out their next meal.  He realized that his vision must have been altered by the vest in order to see through enemy’s veil and recognize them for who they really were.

Steve’s voice interjected into the distress calls and instructions already flowing over the communicator, “Um… I found them… here.  What do I do?”

“Just shoot the b-” Josh started.

Candelaria cut in, “Steve, fall back and stay out of sight.  I’m heading your way.  Carmen can handle the university now.”

“O-Okay,” he replied.  He found another piece of art near the intersection: a black and gold sculpture large enough to shield him from view.  The disc shape of the artwork had always reminded Steve of a spaceship from one of the old cheesy science fiction movies, but thoughts of science fiction and aliens weren’t too comforting at the moment.

From the reflective glass on the side of the building nearest the sculpture, Steve could see the… creatures stopping at the corner opposite his.  There were five in this group, but Steve couldn’t see if another group lagged behind.  He certainly wasn’t going to risk detection by stepping out for a more thorough search.

One of the Mkhai knelt down and pulled off a tall, thin pack apparently made of the same rubber-like material as the soldiers’ suits.  In fact, Steve had not even noticed the pack while looking at them the first time because it seemed a natural extension of that soldier’s outfit.  The soldier used the red device on his left arm to remove a long pole from the bag.  The metal fingers pressed a button on the silver object that caused the three legs of a tripod to extend from the end.  Steve strained to see the detail of the soldier’s movements in the reflection.  The Mkhai pressed a few buttons, and the pole began to glow.  Even from his position, Steve could hear the hum of power growing from the object.

The five soldiers crossed the street with the rest of the early morning commuters.  “Where is she?!” Steve thought.  “They’re going to be finished with whatever they’re doing by the time she gets here.”

They were now at the corner directly across the street from Steve’s hiding spot, and he watched as they repeated the process.  Another corner, another pole.  This pole added to the static hum that no one besides Steve seemed to notice.  Now finished with the second street corner, the group approached Steve’s hiding spot.

The group stopped just on the other side of the statue and began to repeat the process once more.  Steve longed to make another call to Candelaria to demand her presence, but they were too close now.  They would hear his cries for help.

“Arghhh!  I’m hit!”  It was Josh’s voice over the communicator.  The static hum carried through his signal, as well.  Apparently, the Mkhai were setting up the same devices all over the city.

Carmen called back immediately, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live, but I can’t get their relay unit down!” His voice was urgent, panicked.  Gone was the smooth talking leader.  He was genuinely scared.  If he could get that scared over these stupid poles, then they must be more important than Steve realized.

The former lower level manager looked for a way that he could escape.  This was too much.  Steve wasn’t a soldier, he was a businessman.  After all, he was only a body to fill a slot to this ragtag army.  He wasn’t interested in dying for a second time today.  All he had to was wait until manga-Jaws out there moved to the final corner.

As he held his breath in fear of being heard, Steve thought of the few friends that he had made since moving to Charlotte.  He thought of his college roommates, of various girls he had dated, and even of some of his work associates.  He tried to force the thoughts back out of his, but he couldn’t.  Steve wasn’t a super-humanitarian or anything – he had ruthlessly audited a humanitarian group, after all – but he cared for the wellbeing of people.  All of those people were in danger from these… things.  He couldn’t let the Mkhai finish their job.

Steve stepped out from behind the sculpture and began firing.  Time seemed to slow down, but no magic or unusual science was used in this instant.  Pure adrenaline and the need to protect drove him forward.  Steve shot the closest soldier and watched as the creature’s body shimmered and then faded away.  The other soldiers were turning toward him now and pointing their red claws toward him.

He had one chance.  He fired a cluster of shots toward the soldier with the pack.  The soldier’s eyes grew wide as it held the third pole in its hands.  Steve fired true, and the soldier, the pack, and the pole in its hands shimmered and disappeared right before him with a horrible shriek.  That was the last thing Steve saw before the bursts from the Mkhai weapons struck his body and sent him hurtling through the reflective glass windows of the building behind him.

The Mkhai screamed in protest to their ruined plans and started toward the building.  People all around began screaming and panicking at the sight and sound of the blown out window.

“Terrorists!” one voice cried.

“Bomb!  Bomb!  It’s a bomb!” another cried.

None of the panicking crowd could see anyone who looked out of the ordinary, but the residents of Charlotte knew they had been infiltrated.  Someone had slipped past American borders and had sought to bring the destruction of his or her homeland into the United States.

Before the Mkhai could cram into the building, another disruptor blast tore through the soldier closest to the window.  The other two whirled to defend themselves, but they were quickly shot and sent back to their own realm.

Steve’s body ached in ways he had previously been unable to imagine as he lay in the broken glass.  He was bloodied, but his cuts were due to the glass and not the shots.  The vest had absorbed the deadliness of those blows, but the vest had not kept the blasts from hurting.

Candelaria stepped over to where Steve lay.  He gasped, “I don’t know if there are more Mkhai here…”

“There are, but they’re leaving,” she said.  She smiled, “They were supposed to protect the group that you ambushed, so they’re rather useless just now.”

“What about Josh?” Steve asked.

“I must go and see to his wounds next.  But he is a warrior, and he will pull through.”

“Good,” he replied.

“Stay here.  You’re still invisible to human sight, so everyone will leave you alone.  Carmen will be here with the car before it gets too crowded, so she’ll get you out of here and get you patched up soon,” she explained as she started to walk away.

“All right,” he gasped.

“And Steve,” she said.  “Welcome to the Guard.”

He smiled weakly.

Steve Murphy was truly a product of the corporate world.  His dark blue suit was fresh from the dry-cleaners.  His deep brown leather shoes were polished, and his new gold watch sparkled in the morning sunlight.  His smooth leather belt kept his slightly sagging belly in place.  Steve had more than just the look, though.  He had a sharp eye for numbers, and he was going places.  He was going to do something with his life.

He was a product of the corporate world.  Not anymore, though.  Not after that Thursday in March when everything changed.

The day started off like every other day.  Steve took his golden retriever Bucky out for a walk.  They journeyed up and down Fourth Street and passed all the other pet owners out on their similar morning errand.  Steve nodded his hellos to people he had met, but he never said more than a quick “Good morning.”  Truthfully, he could never remember his neighbor’s names.  If they had been as important as a client account, then he could have rattled off the account number, the most recent balance and if the account had seen any rocky activity lately.  People were more difficult to remember, though.

Since the morning jaunt with Bucky had been so nice, Steve decided to walk the few blocks to work today.  He had not yet become a Southern man, but he was quite fond of the way that the sun actually came out at times other than summer months.  Steve had grown up in Ohio, and the sun had seemed a rare gift in those parts of the country.  A dreary cloudiness hovered over the Midwest for months at a time.  It was bright enough to make a person squint, but no one wanted to be seen wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day.  Shielding one’s eyes meant someone had a secret to keep, and secrets were dangerous in small towns.  But here in Charlotte, North Carolina, the sun was actually a common place occurrence year round.

Steve had relocated to Charlotte for a job at Bank of America’s corporate headquarters located “uptown” as they said in Charlotte.  (Steve still hadn’t heard a plausible reason the city called it uptown instead of downtown, but everyone seemed to have his or her own explanation.)  Very few people actually seemed to be originally from this city.  As Steve looked around his office that day at all of his co-workers, he realized that Ellen may be the only genuine local around here, but Steve did not talk to Ellen very much.  She did her job fairly well, but she was peculiar.  He didn’t think that it had anything to do with her place of origin, but one could never be sure…

Anyway, Steve managed a small crew in monitoring the loans that went out across the nation.  Mostly, they double-checked the paperwork for any irregularities, of which there were plenty.  Doing a little extra background work on applicants constantly turned up a slew of deadbeats and weirdoes.  This particular week was more stressful for the office because of the end of the fiscal year’s approach.  Everyone had their annual reports to finish, and Steve also needed to complete his forecasts for the year in his department.

So Steve was not surprised or irritated when five o’clock came and went.  He figured that he could finish up his reports late in the evening, and then his Friday would be a breeze.  He liked to get ahead like that whenever he could.  Sometimes he would even go so far as to pick out his outfits for the next three or four days before going to bed just so he wouldn’t have to worry about it later.

At nine-thirty, Steve hit the “save” icon one last time.  He stood up and stretched and got his things together.  He cleaned up the candy wrappers that were littered on his desk, and he thought of where he might go for dinner.  The only place to eat uptown at this time of night was the bars and taverns.  There might be other places, but Steve had walked to work and still didn’t feel like driving after he got home.  Besides, if he was walking, then he could have a few celebratory drinks in recognition of his accomplishments that day.

The basketball playoffs were on the television, and Steve was immediately engrossed in the scores and the statistics from around the league.  He was a big fan of numbers, after all.  The game on the television was being played on the west coast, so they did not finish until twelve-thirty.  Steve finished his last beer and paid his tab.  He was feeling pretty good.  He had enjoyed some good drinks, and his favorite team had clinched their series.  Not a bad night.

Charlotte is not a particularly dangerous city, so Steve did not worry for safety very often.  “Bad stuff” happens in every city, and the media did their best to convince everyone that the city was always going down in flames.  But Steve could see through sensationalism.  He saw things the way they were.

Steve traversed the few streets back to his quiet home and prepared for a few hours of sleep before work in the morning.  As he approached the door, he looked down to the corner where a group of young guys were all gathered around talking and laughing.  He checked his watch and shook his head.  He had just moved in during the winter, so he wondered if people normally stayed out so late in this neighborhood once the weather got nicer.  Since he was still a little fuzzy in the head from his drinks, he was a little slower than usual in processing his thoughts about the condition of the neighborhood.  Maybe if he had just gone in that night without pausing he could have had his nice night’s sleep.

“Hey man, can you help me out with a few bucks?”

Steve nearly jumped.  He had not seen the young man walk up behind him.  The man’s hood on his jacket cast a shadow from the street light over his face, and Steve could not discern anything about the man’s physical features.

A little shaken, Steve replied, “Yeah… I guess.”

He reached for his wallet.

“Why don’t you just go ahead and give me the whole thing?  And your cell phone, now.”  The voice had been a little softer and more urgent this time.  Less friendly, too.

Steve looked up and saw a gun pointed at his stomach.  Steve sighed and wished he hadn’t had that last beer.  He needed to pee, and this was really ruining his night.

“All right.  Here.”

The man kept his face out of the light as he snatched Steve’s wallet and phone.

“Your watch, too.”

“Come on… the watch was a gift.”

The man pulled back the hammer on his gun, “I don’t care.”

“All right, all right.  Calm down.”

Steve pulled off his watch and started to hand it to the mugger.

“Hey, what’re you guys doing?”

It was one of the teens from the corner.  Neither one of the men had noticed his approach, and they were both startled.  Steve accidentally clamped down on his watch with his hand instead of letting the man with the gun take it.  He noticed out of the corner of his eye that the other man tensed as well.

The shadowed man gave a firm tug on the watch as Steve tried to respond to the teen’s question.  Then Steve heard the gun fire.

He whipped his head around in time to actually see the bullet coming out of the gun barrel.  And even though he had had a few drinks that night, he knew that he shouldn’t be able to see a bullet once it had been fired.  Not only could he see the bullet, but he watched it inch toward him.  Steve thought that he might even be able to get out of the way before it struck him.

That’s when he heard her voice for the first time.  “Well, you are going to move, aren’t you?  We need to get going, and we’re already leaving late.”

She walked across the street as though the next day had already dawned, and she was another executive eager to start her next project.  Steve couldn’t remember seeing her in the neighborhood before, but he decided that she must have an important job.   Dressed in a black suit jacket and conservative skirt, the woman strode with purpose towards the now dumbfounded Steve and gently took his arm.  Her hands were soft, but she possessed an iron-like grip.

“Let’s stand to the side for one moment, shall we?”

Steve and his new escort stepped to the left side of his former attacker, and she bent in to whisper in the assailant’s ear.  Time returned to its normal speed, and the attacker and the teenager who had been standing near were both shocked at the new arrangement of the scene.  In their minds, only a second had passed between the firing of the bullet and now.

The woman responsible for alterations in the present whispered into the attacker’s ear, “Crime will make a man crazy.”

The attacker whirled and pulled the trigger once more.  But, once again, time slowed, and the woman – now that she was in the light, the slight gray in her brown hair could be seen – smiled at the outrage of the assailant.

She turned back to Steve, “Well, that’s that.”

She stepped out of the way and began to walk back across the street from the direction she had come.

Steve offered his hand, “Thank you, ma’am.  I would have been killed.  I really appreciate it.  Let me know if I can ever repay your kindness.”

The woman turned around and smirked without taking his hand, “Don’t worry.  You are definitely going to repay me.”

“I… What do you mean?”
“You’re a businessman.  You can understand.  You just declared bankruptcy.  Do the numbers.  You got bought out, but this time we’re talking about your life.  Your life was forfeit, but I saved you.  Now you work for me.”

He considered this for a moment, “No.  No, that’s not how that works…”

“It is when I save someone.  But don’t worry, if we need to re-negotiate, there’s still time to undo what’s been done.”

Steve glanced over to see the second bullet still only inching its way out of the barrel of the gun.

“If you want to refuse, then we can place you back where you belong and forget that this ever happened.  Your decision.”

A little panicked, Steve asked, “But what do you do?  What kind of work will I be doing?”

“I’m not here to answer questions.  I’m only here to give you a choice.”

“But…” Steve fell silent for what seemed an eternity, but the bullet only flew another inch during his entire silent deliberation.  Steve thought that maybe he could dodge the bullet now since he could actually see the trajectory, but she probably wouldn’t allow it.  “Okay.  I’ll go with you, but can I go get some of my stuff?”

The woman had already turned around again and was walking toward a silver town car that Steve had not noticed earlier.  She replied, “You won’t need anything from there.  Let’s go.”

“What about Bucky, my dog?”

“Someone will take care of it.  I promise.”

He pleaded now, “You’re not going to kill my dog, are you?”

She looked at him with a mystified expression, “Why would I… Get in the car.  Now!”

Steve did as he was told and got in the back seat of the car.  As he tried to smooth out his now slightly sweaty button-up shirt, he noticed an African-American man and a Caucasian woman in the front seat.  The man was pulled the car out onto the road, but he didn’t look very much like a chauffeur.  He was in some sort of SWAT team-looking outfit instead of a suit, and he was simply too big – not giant-too-big, but definitely linebacker-too-big.  The executive woman now sitting beside Steve finally returned the rest of the world to normal time after they had already driven a few blocks.  Steve stared out the window in amazement.

“Your normal life just ended on that corner,” she picked up a briefcase from the floorboard as she spoke.  She handed Steve a contract, “Your verbal agreement that you made on the sidewalk is as binding as an actual signature, so your signature has already been added to this formalized agreement.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief.  The final page contained his exact signature.  “Who are you people?”

The brunette in the front seat looked on as the executive woman beside Steve began her explanation, “We are one of the last lines of defense for an invisible war that has been happening all around you for the past twenty years in your time.”

“Okay…  No, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Steve replied.  “Are you talking about the Middle East stuff?  I know that’s been going on for a while, so are you anti-terrorism agents or something?”

“Definitely something,” the man in the front seat said.

The woman continued, “I’m a being from the other side of the Border –”

“Like Mexico?” Steve guessed.

The business woman sighed, “Try to pay attention. Yours is not the only reality, and there are those who wish to take your reality from you.”

“From me?”

“From mankind as a whole… as it exists in this realm,” she replied.

“Oh,” he said as though he understood all of the implications, but he didn’t.

“Unfortunately, this is not a war without prisoners and casualties,” she said in a somber tone.  “During the battle for Phoenix, we lost many of our finest soldiers.  Some perished, and some were abducted for interrogation.”

Steve scanned the expressions of the two in the front seat and saw the sense of loss in their eyes and in their postures.  He ventured a question, “Who took them?”

The business woman looked him in the eye as she answered, “You’re about to find out shortly.  We have intel that the enemy is ready to attack Charlotte.  They stand on the other side of the Border, waiting for the doors to open.  When I rescued you, you became a soldier in defense of this realm of existence.”

“Soldier?” Steve asked in a tone higher than he had intended.  “I’m not a soldier.  There’s nothing I can do to help.”

The man in the front seat answered for the business woman, “Yeah, see the thing is, we didn’t have time to be picky.  You were the next on the list, and we need the manpower now.”

“What list?”

“The list of the dead,” the woman in the front seat answered with a distant stare.  She had been on that list, too.

Steve ignored that response.  He couldn’t accept the situation.  There had to be a simpler solution.  “Why can’t you just do the time freezing thing that you did back there?  You could take away your enemy’s weapons, and do… whatever else you needed to do.”

Weariness edged into the executive woman’s voice as she explained, “That magic only affects certain species, and they are immune to its effects.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “Magic?”

The driver chuckled, “You got a logical explanation for all of this, Einstein?”

Steve looked out the window, “This just doesn’t make sense… none of it.”

The business woman explained, “I’ll make it simple: as far as the world is concerned, you died twenty minutes ago.  There is no going back.  There is only the fight to save everyone you’ve loved or ever cared about.”

Steve smiled meekly, “As long as there’s no pressure…”