“What? Should I have gotten Maria’s Pizza?” I stand back up and shout to the men who are actually heading back to the chopper. “And pick up a monocle while you’re out!”
I sit once more, cross my legs and continue hiding my trepidation behind a mask of humor and casual behavior. On the inside, I’m terrified. Not because I’m suddenly mind bogglingly rich, or am now in charge of a colossal, world-wide high-tech corporation with questionable business tactics, while simultaneously running the FC-P, or because I’ve now got a wife and a teenage daughter, or because the next time Nemesis surfaces, I might have to turn all these newfound resources, including Endo’s own sister against her. I can handle all that. But it’s now clear that if—if—the Aeros return to Earth, no one will be better equipped to handle the threat than me...the guy, who just three years ago was happily wasting his time and career pretending to search for Bigfoot. Am I really capable of saving the world from an alien invasion?
Let’s hope I never have to find out.
EPILOGUE
Far beyond Earth’s gravitational influence and the cloud of man-made satellites, a lone, black cube the size of an SUV, hidden by the infinite darkness of space, circled the blue-green planet.
Watching.
Listening.
Transmitting.
While the device lacked a conscience, its artificial intelligence let it detect the presence of a multitude of life forms, though it was only actively searching for a few. The first, humanity, was in great abundance, populating nearly every plot of land on the planet, save for the south pole.
But they were inconsequential.
The emergence of the Gestorumque, what the humans called Kaiju, or specifically, Nemesis, was an unexpected, yet not unpleasant surprise. The creature’s survival for so long was unusual for the species, but the creature would be a welcome ally.
While scans for the Atlantide had revealed nothing living, trace amounts of their DNA had been uncovered in the human population. That, along with the observed behavior of the once-simple human race, along with their technological advances, particularly in the realm of warfare, showed a clear Ferox influence.
The signal sent ten years ago had been accurate. Earth belonged to the Ferox.
The black cube transmitted its findings to the fleet, hidden at the fringe of the solar system’s heliopause, eleven billion miles from the yellow star. Forced to slow at the solar system’s edge, as encountering even the smallest of objects at near light speed could be catastrophic, the remainder of the journey would take time, but for beings such as the Aeros, whose life-spans allowed them to observe the rise and fall of civilizations, the journey would feel brief.
And when they returned to Earth, it would not be to cleanse the Atlantide; it would be to cleanse humanity.
Every last one of them.
In all dimensions of reality.
As the cube finished its transmission, sensors detected an approaching anomaly. It scanned the object, determining it to be an errant Earth satellite. Instead of taking action, the cube simply moved aside.
It was a mistake.
The cube detected the black sphere’s presence too late.
The laser strike disabled the cube’s communications array, silencing it.
The second disabled its defenses.
The third struck its engines.
And the fourth finished it off, punching a hole through the AI’s core, putting the Aeros satellite out of commission without destroying it. Any stargazers or government agencies monitoring the sky from the planet below would detect nothing. If the sphere’s actions had been more overt, both the Aeros and humanity would know that while the Aeros were still coming, the Ferox had already arrived.