Chapter 1: A human sacrifice

BOOK ONE: DAWN OF THE CYBORG

Washington, DC, Summer, 2116:

The President of United Earth had an "I've got bad news but let's smile and pretend it won't destroy your whole life" look on his face. "Ms. Skuy, come in. We don't have much time before I have to sacrifice you to the aliens."

Aurora stumbled through the door of the Oval Office. She'd like to believe his words had been a joke, but she knew better. Tension hung thick in the air. "Excuse me?"

The president's tired face softened. "My apologies. That was in bad taste."

He clasped her arm and steadied her, giving her elaborate, medieval style dress a quick once over and lingering on the elegant signature glass hairpins keeping her long, upswept hair in place. In the outer corners of his eyes, crinkles appeared, as if he wanted to smile. As if he was pleased. The dresses were her armor and the hairpins potential weapons. But why was the president pleased about her wearing them? "You wore your hairpins," he said.

"As fascinating as I find the fact that the President of United Earth apparently plans to sacrifice me to the aliens with my hairpins in place, I'd like to know why your soldiers invaded my office and brought me here at gunpoint." That was an exaggeration, but not by much.

He led her to a royal-blue-velvet-covered visitor's chair. "I need your help. The survival of the human race is at stake."

The president had been the most powerful man on Earth, until the alien spaceships arrived a year ago. Now the commander of the menacing alien fleet orbiting Earth filled that position, even if he wasn't quite on Earth. And probably not even a man.

"When your soldiers came to my office and insisted I accompany them here, I assumed there was a crisis at one of my foundation's soup kitchens. Human sacrifice did not occur to me." She really hoped he'd been joking, but the ruthless purpose in his eyes and the ominous feel in the air told a different story.

He fixed her with those fierce, battle-worn eyes. "It's ironic, isn't it? We finally get it right. No more pollution, population numbers are manageable, and healthcare has never been this good." He rubbed his brow, a weary irritated gesture. "Goddamn aliens."

She nodded. "It does seem ironic. Instead of 2115 going down in history as the year we conquered famine, it's known as the year the aliens came."

He had to know of the harsh realities the media glossed over. The previous president had all but destroyed the freedom of the press. Men and women had been forced into sterilization clinics during the last two presidencies. Her sister was living proof that slavery was still thriving. Ever since his election, she'd wondered what this man was capable of. "What do the aliens have to do with me? Why did you mention sacrifice?"

The angry buzz of the protestors outside filtered through the walls. They'd congregated outside United Earth buildings all around the world, waving placards demanding the aliens leave, with unimaginative slogans like, Earth is for Humans and Aliens Go Back Where You Came From.

Instead of answering her question, he held out a hairpin. "I need to give you this. As I said, we don't have much time."

She studied the glass pin - similar in design to the ones she had in her hair - designed to look like old fashioned hat pins, adding an air of whimsy to her elaborate hairdo. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"It's safe to use in your hair, but if you twist the top like this, it turns into an injection. It contains picos." He demonstrated and, after sealing it again, handed it to Aurora. Picos was micro technology, still experimental in their application. "Never let it out of your sight." His smile was little more than an awkward upward turn at the corners of his mouth. "Or, in this case, hair."

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

He gave her that tight-lipped soldier's smile. "You have to find an opportunity to inject it into their leader. The picos are programmed to turn him pliable to the first person he sees after he is injected."

"Why would you think I'd ever meet the - " She closed her eyes. "The sacrifice," she murmured.

"The sacrifice," he agreed.

The president clutched the nape of his neck. In that moment, he didn't look like the President of United Earth. Instead, he looked weary and at the end of his rope. "This morning, I received a - " He hesitated and then shrugged. " - a call from the leader of the aliens."

Aurora straightened. "You saw one of them?" She forgot to be regal and graceful, to keep her mask in place. No one knew what the aliens wanted, what they looked like. Several experts had speculated that they could be artificial intelligence, so-called tin men. The name had caught on, and now everyone called the elusive aliens tinners.

"No, the call was voice only. He spoke in English. Accented, but good English."

The aliens had announced their arrival by bombing the International Space Station and the satellites orbiting Earth. Next, they'd bombed Washington, DC, from space. Aurora would never forget the day that happened. She'd been in her office, watching the destruction on television, the horror of it hard to accept even now. Ever since, humanity had braced for more bombings that never happened. And then the aliens called the president?

"He?"

"Yes, the alien who called me was definitely a 'he.'"

"And you think the picos could give us an advantage?" She was all for any advantage they could get, but she didn't want to be the one wielding the secret weapon.

"Yes. Those picos are the reason I had you brought here. We've been working on a plan, in the event that we encountered them."

"What did he want, Mr. President?"

He walked over to the window and then turned to face her with a jerky, almost uncoordinated, move. "He offered a ceasefire in exchange for certain...promises."

"What promises?" Whatever they promised wasn't worth more than her sister's life.

"He made it clear that if we don't give them what they want, they'd bomb us again. And this time, they won't stop after destroying a few empty buildings. His smile was bitter. "He used very precise words. 'Deliver or face another barrage of bombs.'"

Now they were getting to it, the reason he had her collected and brought here. "Deliver what?" she asked, but she knew. Oh yes, she knew. This wasn't her first stint into being the sacrificial lamb. This time, she'd fight. She had too much to lose.

"He wants you," he said. "And I had the impression that the alien leader wanted you for himself. That it was personal."