June 9, 2085 10:27 a.m. Romanian Standard Time


Violence erupted in the streets of Bucharest. Locals and tourists alike were scrambling to safety and getting trampled. A metal drainpipe crashed into Sonia’s back, and knocked her down to the muddy street. She caught a glimpse of her mother fighting her way through the crowd. Tears, blood, and grime streaked her face.

“Sonia!” her mother screamed.

A Russian soldier with a flaming serpent printed on his armor grabbed her mother and threw her to the ground. There she was, vulnerable to the chaos. A panic-stricken man ran right over her as if she weren’t there. Then something clicked in Sonia. She wasn’t sure what it was. Regardless, she saw her mother in pain, and that’s the only thing that mattered. She sprang up from the filthy street, and rushed across it to her mother’s side within seconds. Her momentum carried her into the soldier with the flaming serpent on his armor, and knocked him down. His head smacked into a sharp shard of metal on the ground. He remained motionless as a pool of blood grew around him. Sonia’s senses were suddenly alert and the pain in her back dulled. Her hands shook uncontrollably as the adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She bent down to help her mother up, but the moment she touched her, she knew something was wrong.

Her mother’s shirt was soaked in warm blood and her face was paler than a glass of milk. Terror and fear for her mother’s life brought Sonia to her knees. As she began to sob in hopelessness, a terrified man, running from the soldiers, hit her from the front like a locomotive. Her head hit the ground hard, and black spots danced in front of her eyes. Darkness began to eat the sides of her vision. In the distance she could her soldiers shouting in Russian. “Vozʹmite ih v plen!” Take them prisoner!





June 9, 2085
10:56 a.m. Eastern Standard Time (USA), Pennsylvania




He sat up groggily in bed and blinked several times. He let out a large yawn as he pulled himself out of bed. The house computer recognized that he was no longer sleeping. “Good morning, Arjun,” it said cheerfully.

“Weather?” he asked lazily. A moment later, the overly-cheerful voiced chimed from hidden speakers.

“Current temperature: 87 degrees. Highest predicted temperature today: 92 degrees. Lowest predicted temperature today: 85 degrees.”

He dragged his feet towards the bathroom. The force field door and the hologram faded dramatically as he neared. “Gimme a run-through of the day.”

“Well, you don’t have much planned for today. Your dad is considering buying the Thai Cuisine update so that you can eat something different at home today.”

“Why?” he walked over to the mirror. A holographic display, or Holo, materialized in front of him. It displayed world news headlines, the latest sports news, and his most frequently visited web pages.

“Well, your dad saw that you aced your AP Chemistry and AP Biology finals, and thought you deserved it. In fact, he also bought you three new albums, and a new video game.”

There was nothing new there. He was expecting that to happen anyway. The school made the AP courses too easy.

He pulled up the world news headlines on his Holo as the computer sprayed tooth-brushing nanobots into his mouth. He saw the usual about the new Russian power- there were Russian troops under the influence of a new political power. They served a man named Igorek Petrov, and called themselves Petrovites in his honor. Many people used Russian as a synonym for Petrovite, but that was far from the truth. Eighty percent of Russia rebelled against Petrov, but lost, allowing him to wreak all kinds of hell wherever he stepped foot.


Initially, not many people, except the Petrovites themselves, knew how Petrov came into power. Igorek Petrov rose to his level of authority by convincing many Russians that he was sent by god. Nobody understood why many so many people believed him even though 97% of the entire earth’s population had become atheistic as of 2032 after the existence of god had been disproved. There were also many articles that were gaining popularity about the disappearances of many notable scientists ever since the Petrovian Era began.

Arjun flicked through the headlines until one caught his eye. His heart sank as he started to read the article. In the article, there was a large image of a flaming serpent. Could it be true? He pulled up a video clip from the recent Russian invasion of Romania’s capital, Bucharest. From a bird’s-eye-view, he could see a mass of people running away from Russian soldiers. In their midst, the video highlighted a teenage girl, about 17 years old. She charged across the street, knocked a soldier down, and killed him. A man trampled her as he ran past. Soon afterward, when the chaos had died down, the soldiers started dragging living people off the streets to take them as prisoners. Arjun went numb. He could see the soldiers as they dragged the unconscious body of the young girl along with the blood-stained one of her mother into a plane. All the media cared about was the girl’s bravery, but this occasion meant something entirely different to him. He knew that girl. Her name was Sonia. She was his sister.

He rushed out of the bathroom and tripped down the stairs headfirst. The floor’s crash response system cushioned his fall.


“Dad! Did you read the headlines!! Get on your Holo!” he panicked. Sonia was a prisoner. Life for people like her would be hell times ten. Tears started to stream down his face as he got up. He normally wasn’t one to cry, but right now he felt like something inside him was dying.

He couldn’t find his dad. He ran into the kitchen. The sight before him was comparable to seeing her sister in the Holo.

“What the ...?” The entire kitchen had been demolished.

Metal was lying white-hot everywhere. The portion of the house above the kitchen was completely gone. He could see parts of the living room through the gaping holes in the floor. The living room was a blackened mess. Where was his father?

He took a step forward, careful not to fall through the damaged floor. His left foot stepped on something. He bent down to pick it up. It was his father’s gun. It was silver, the size of his palm, and looked harmless, but he knew that one shot from this released a laser strong enough to melt a block of steel. If his father had to bring out the gun, then something serious must have happened. Then his eyes fell on a truly hair-raising sight. The ground near a relatively undamaged fixture was soaked with blood.

Could the Russian Petrovites have done this? He knew that they were attacking parts of the USA-Canada Alliance territories a few hundred miles away, but had they already penetrated this deep? And what did they want with his father? Or did they just kill him? His mind wandered back to the blood on the floor. Arjun’s legs gave out from under him.

In the midst of all this turmoil, he couldn’t stop thinking about the missing scientist articles. His dad was a biologist, and now he was gone. Is this how all of the other scientists “disappeared”?

How did I not hear this happen? Arjun was completely bewildered. Then it struck him. How could he have forgotten? I had my sound-proofing on because my dad was on a call last night! he thought. How come the house’s computer didn’t set up an alarm or warn me?

The answer was staring him straight in the face. A bundle of wires hung out of the outside wall. The computer had been tampered with.

Arjun turned his head and saw the landscape through his crumbling wall. The forest that surrounded his house was now a massive heap of red-hot ash. He felt sick to his stomach. He leaned over to his right and threw up. The shock of it all made him dizzy. He lay down on the floor and let out loud sobs of grief. His shoulders shook uncontrollably.

He laid there, and cried himself to exhaustion. Slowly the sobbing stopped, and Arjun eventually drifted into a seemingly peaceful sleep.

Approximately 4 Hours Previously


Arjun‘s father, Rajesh, had just finished watching his wife and daughter be dragged away by Petrovites.

His hands trembled, and all of the color drained from his skin. Tears of shock, grief, and terror filled his eyes. His breath came in shaky bursts. The video was still playing over and over in his head.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly helpless. Normally, when something wasn’t working properly in the lab, he would simply have to change some of its genetic makeup. At work, he acted like what his parents would have called a “god.” Now, all he could do was sit in a chair and watch the horrors that those Petrovites created as if they owned the world.

For a moment, the screen in front of him went blank. A message popped up on the screen stating that the system was experiencing technical difficulties and needed to shut down to identify the problem. Rajesh nodded, and the system shut down.

A massive thud suddenly jolted Rajesh in his chair.

He glanced out of the window. He saw the vague outline of an army-type plane.

The house began to rumble. He heard a loud explosion that came from beneath him. The shock of it threw him through the air, and he fell back down several feet away. Arjun! he immediately thought. He can’t hear or feel anything! He has his sound and vibration insulation on!

In his consternation, he attempted to run upstairs to wake Arjun. The jolting vibrations issued from his living room, downstairs, threw him back down. Intense heat spouted from the ventilation ducts.

With a loud crack, the walls of the kitchen caved in. Several armored figures carrying weapons trotted in as Rajesh slapped the palm of his hand on the tile, trying to keep it steady while the vibrations continued. The tile, which was really a vault that operated independently of the house, analyzed his palm print and opened. Rajesh’s fingers reached down and wrapped themselves around a small silver gun.

He pulled his hand out of the vault, raised his arm, and fired.

The laser caught a man in the stomach, and drove him through a wall. Rajesh was stunned. The intruders’ body armor could resist his gun! He fired two more shots. One missed its target and blew a hole through the ceiling, and the other struck another intruder in the head. The three remaining intruders spotted him. They charged, weapons ablaze as they indiscriminately fired at walls, furniture, and random objects that were caught in the crossfire. Rajesh noticed something terrifying about them. Aside from the weapons, their armor had the image of a flaming serpent on them. The sign of Petrov.

The three figures surrounded him. One roughly kicked the small gun out of his hand.

“Ahhh!!!” Rajesh’s wrist snapped with the force of the blow. The second man’s armored foot collided with Rajesh’s jaw. Rajesh saw his vision begin to go dark. The third man lifted him into a sitting position, and made him lean on one of the relatively undamaged fixtures in the room.

Their helmets simultaneously slid open, revealing rather disturbing facial features. Their scaly faces were ridden with horrendous scars, and their eyes were menacing, solid black, vertical slits.

“You are the biologist?” one of them inquired in a bone chilling voice. Rajesh remained silent. His head began to throb due to the kick he’d received to the jaw. The Petrovites are not even human! They are genetic projects! His head was reeling. This explains why Petrov is kidnapping scientists! He wants to literally create an entire army for himself! It was also the very same reason that they came to him. He was a biologist, and he could help them create what would destroy billions of lives.

“ANSWER ME!” the voice screamed in rage. Rajesh remained silent. His interrogator then reared back and extended metallic claws from his armor, then drove them through Rajesh’s left leg.

An ear-splitting scream of agony filled the air. I can’t let them take Arjun! he thought. He trembled with pain, as he felt the blood freely flow from this thigh and shin.

“Now,” the cold voice continued calmly, “are you or are you not a biologist?” The Petrovite freed his claws from Rajesh’s leg, and proceeded to place their tips on the biologist’s throat. Rajesh’s breath became lighter and more erratic. He opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water. His eyes met with the ruthless ones of his interrogator. His lips formed words as he whispered.

“I would happily die before serving you.”

The Petrovite’s eye slits widened in fury. “Serve us, eh?” He leaned in closer. “So you know why we’re here then?” It was more of a statement than a question. Rajesh nodded weakly anyway. More blood flowed down his leg.

“Captain,” interrupted one of the Petrovites in fluent Russian, “bio-scans show another person, male, roughly seventeen or eighteen years of age asleep upstairs.”

“Leave him,” Rajesh’s interrogator replied in the same language. “After all, we have everything that Lord Petrov has asked of us, don’t we?” A villainous smile crept up his face. He turned back to face the bleeding biologist. “Ready the plane, we’ll take him.” He raised an armored fist, and drove it into Rajesh’s face.

Everything went black.

Prison Camp: Novosibirsk, Russia -- One day later, 8:52 a.m. Local Time


Sonia slowly drifted back into consciousness. She sat up slowly and smelled the dank air. She opened her eyes and was startled by her surroundings. She was in a dimly lit chamber with dozens of other people, caked in dry blood. She attempted to get up, but was painfully brought back down by the rusty electric chains that bound her hands and feet. She landed on something soft. No, someone soft. She got up and turned around, careful not to activate her chains again, and immediately recognized a woman’s face. Mom.

Sonia’s mom’s breathing was shallow, and her face was badly beaten. One eye was swollen shut, and cuts of all kinds were scattered all over her face. One of her legs was twisted and stuck out at an awkward angle, and fresh dark bloodstains coated her abdomen.

Sonia began to sob. She leaned over her mother’s body. Her mother slowly opened her good eye.

“Sonia?” she inquired feebly. She began to sit up, but collapsed immediately due to her wounds. She let out a weak groan of pain.

“Mom.” Sonia began to sob harder. More people started to wake up now. Sonia’s voice was barely a whisper. “Look what they did to you.”

Her mom began to say something, but was abruptly interrupted from an explosive bang. Bright light suddenly filled the room and blinded its occupants. An overhead door had been thrown open. Standing on the edge was the silhouette of a figure. Sonia was still too blinded by the sudden light to make out any of her surroundings. The figure at the edge of the upper doorway spat on them. He then threw down a piece of meat that was as big as a small car. It landed with a massive thud.

Juices began to drip from the chunk of meat onto the filthy floor. There was a deafening series of clicks from the hundreds of chains in the room unlocking and falling to the ground. Sonia noticed that her chains, too, fell away. Instinctively, the fifty or so other occupants of the chamber rushed towards the slab of meat and began to tear chunks of it off with their teeth. Sonia saw a small boy of about nine with a feral look in his eyes as he dove into the frenzy to get his share of the meat. Sonia lost sight of him. A moment later he was thrown back into her sight with deep, new gash on his face. Sonia cringed.

A stray piece of meat flew away from the bloody fight, and landed in Sonia’s hair. Revolted, she raked her fingers frantically through her hair. The meat’s juices poured down her face and into her mouth. She immediately spat it out. The meat was raw. They feed us raw meat! Sonia closed her eyes, brought her arms over her knees and shivered. She tried to block out the noise of the chaos in front of her. Her first few minutes of consciousness had been unbearable in this dystopian dungeon. She opened her eyes and looked at her mother’s deteriorating condition. How long will we last?



Pennsylvania -- Same Day, 5:34 a.m.


Arjun woke from a nightmare where his house was destroyed and his family was gone. The early morning air flowed over him, chilling him slightly. He opened his eyes in confusion. Is the heater not working? He slowly got up and yawned. Then it struck him. The mildly chilly air was coming in through the missing walls of the house.

Reality came crashing down on him as he remembered all of the previous day’s events. A wave of fresh new grief washed over him as he thought about his family.

He brought himself up to a sitting position. He looked out of the giant spaces left by the walls into the mounds of ash that once were a beautiful forest. The ashes were no longer red-hot, and were more of a bleak gray now. He got up, walked over to the living room, and sat down on a sofa near the coffee table. As his hands neared its surface, its digital surface sprang to life, displaying the usual headlines and favorite web sites. Immediately, an emergency message came up saying that the system had been attacked by a virus, but the virus had been identified and was safely deleted. The speakers then switched themselves on, and the computer began to speak.

“Upon re-activation, I had sent an emergency distress report that included a description of the damage done to the house. The military is already en route to this house.”

“The military?” Arjun was puzzled.

“Yes, the Petrovites have taken much of the U.S.-Canada Alliance territory. Pennsylvania, four other American states, and two Canadian territories are the only ones that haven’t been attacked yet, until this house was attacked today.”

An idea struck Arjun. “Computer,” he asked, “do you have any footage of the attack on the house?”

“Negative, the virus completely disabled the security system.”

“Then how come you still worked normally yesterday morning?”

“That was my bare minimum functional program running. I could not detect any damage to the house at that time because the damage to my system was not fully repaired until a few minutes ago.”

The computer’s projection suddenly flashed green. It brought forward a newsflash about the French and Indian governments’ decision to join the U.S.-Canada Alliance in order to stop Petrov. It also notified Arjun that since international war had been declared, and since this house may have evidence that could help them, a section of the French military would arrive and make this area a base camp for their operations.

“A base camp?” Arjun was taken aback. The French military wanted to make his property into a base camp! The past 2 days had been much too eventful for him, and now on top his family being kidnapped, his house was going to be a French military base camp.

“The military will arrive in approximately 32 seconds,” the computer interrupted his thoughts.

Soon enough, he heard the pulsing hum of anti-grav generators. He walked over to the damaged kitchen and looked outside. He saw several steel gray planes flicker into visibility as their cloaking fields powered down. A digitally animated French flag was waving on every hull of the planes. They gently landed on the land surrounding his house, and in the ashes of the forest.

As soon as they touched the ground, several doors on each plane simultaneously slid open, and dozens of armored French soldiers ran out carrying large weapons. As they ran around the perimeter of their new base and inside the house, securing it, one of them came up to Arjun and pointed a weapon directly at his forehead. A small scanner smoothly slid out from above the weapon’s barrel and pointed at him.

“Qui êtes-vous, et qu’est-ce que vous faites ici?” he inquired in a gruff tone. Who are you, and what are you doing here? It took Arjun a second to comprehend what the soldier was saying.

He replied, unsure of his grammatical accuracy.

“C’est ma maison, et j’habite ici.”

The man stayed steady.

“Parlez-vous anglais?” Arjun asked tentatively.

The scanner on the man’s weapon beeped. Apparently his database had gotten a hit on Arjun. The man then lowered his weapon. Arjun visibly relaxed.

“Sorry,” the armored man said, speaking in a heavy French accent. “Are you a resident of zis ‘ouse?”

“Yes.”

“Come wiz me zen.” The man turned on the spot and walked away without waiting for Arjun. He followed the man with the accent through his property. The man led him through the ashes of the trees to where his plane was waiting about 30 yards away.

Once Arjun and the man came within 10 feet of the plane, a set of stairs smoothly slid out from its seemingly seamless hull and a doorway opened up in a similar manner. The man stopped at the foot of the steps and turned to face Arjun. He gestured up the steps to Arjun. Arjun then climbed up. When he reached the top, the site before him blew him away. The plane was equipped with all of the latest technology, HoloDisplays were over every terminal, and every visible surface was a digital display including the floor.

Arjun turned back and looked out the door, expecting to see the French soldier behind him. The soldier, sensing this, then said, “I vill no longer be accompanying you. Zere eez a man eenside ze plane who vill explain everyzing.” With that, he promptly trotted off.

Arjun turned and looked back into the plane, and was startled by a bald man standing a few feet away from him.




“Bonjour monsieur,” he said in a calm voice, “please come this way.” His accent was perfect, as if he was a native English speaker. Arjun obliged and followed the man into the plane. Wherever they stepped, the floor outlined their footsteps and tracked their progress. The plane’s computer identified Arjun from a government database, and displayed a database picture of him on almost every surface in the plane. The computer explained in French who Arjun was for about half a minute before finally withdrawing his picture from display.

“I am the technological engineer in charge of this plane, so I am the only one who has to remain here while the troops go out. You will be spending eighteen point seven-two hours on this plane until we can secure a safe passage from here to a refugee camp seventeen hundred feet below Washington D.C. for you.” He seemed almost like a computer without emotion programs.




“You may wander around the plane and look, or simply sleep, but you are not to touch anything,” he said, giving Arjun a stern look, “Understood?” Arjun nodded. He was about to leave, but opened his mouth to say more.

His voice dropped in volume dramatically.

“These are dangerous times. You cannot possibly know where your enemy is hiding. You must always be vigilant.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He inserted it into a slot on the wall. A robotic arm inside opened the box, and took out what looked like a small contact lens. The arm moved towards Arjun’s eye with aim and precision, and planted the small lens right over his iris. He barely felt it.

“What is it?” Arjun inquired.

“This constantly records everything that it sees and hears, and transmits an encrypted live feed to the American, French, and Indian International Security Departments. If you must, then apply gentle pressure to it by blinking forcefully to activate it.” His gaze became more serious.

“The little Spy in your eye will save your life. Many of our spies have carried around dozens of these ‘little Spies’ with them to plant on suspected enemies. Once you plant them, our satellites can pinpoint their exact location, and if needed, take them out.” He took a step back. “Like I said, the little Spy in your eye will save your life. It certainly saved mine, as well as those of countless other government agents.” With that, the man left and proceeded towards the rear of the massive plane, leaving Arjun hoping that he would never have to use the “little Spy.”

To take his mind off of his troubling thoughts, Arjun began to wander around the plane, marveling at the technology that was yet to hit the market. He stumbled upon a large window -- rather view-screen -- at the bow end of the plane. The screen acted like a window, but had multitudes of data splashing down the sides, and several displays on the screen as well. Below it were more of the numerous HoloDisplays. Arjun stood over them and noted that they seemed to be used for piloting the craft.

An idea struck him.

“Chair,” he called out. Nothing happened. Then he noticed that all of the displays were in French. “En anglais,” he tried. Immediately the displays in front of him dissolved and re-materialized in English. Arjun smiled in what seemed to him to be the first time in years. “Chair,” he tried once more. This time, from beneath the floor, a chair rose out behind him almost silently. Arjun sat. He looked around him at the displays. He wondered if the plane’s hard drive contained any intel on the Petrovite invasion of Romania. He spoke some more commands, and placed his finger on the hard drive icon hovering in mid-air. The area around his finger turned orange as the computer began to run a scan on him to see if he was authorized to open the file. A moment later, the orange turned to red as the computer denied him permission. Arjun’s shoulders slumped.

Then, another idea struck him.

If the scanner wouldn’t recognize him, then wouldn’t it recognize the technological engineer in the plane? Arjun attempted to access the security feature of the plane. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his thumb-sized computer. He then synced it up with the plane’s security system that had been carelessly left unlocked by its last user. He then searched for and found the technological engineer in the plane. He transmitted a section of the live feed from the scanners in the plane that were scanning the man to the identification software on the plane’s computers.

He was going to hack a government plane.

After he fiddled around with the computer, it finally granted him access to the hard drive’s contents. He searched for any intel on the invasion on Romania. He soon found out that all of the prisoners were thought to have been taken to a Petrovian prison camp in Novosibirsk, Russia. His heart began to beat wildly in his chest. That’s where my sister and mother are! He had to go there. Tentatively, he accessed the navigation and piloting system under his fake identification.

“Plot a course to Novosibirsk, Russia.” Arjun held his breath. A moment later, the computer displayed a route from his current position to his destination and asked for confirmation. He let out a sigh of relief and confirmed the computer’s route. It worked! He proceeded to take off, but was stopped by the computer’s warning: “You do not have permission to take off. Are you sure that you want to override the permission block?” Arjun nodded. The computer responded.

“Permission need overridden by Jière DeBoiseneux. Take off commencing,” it announced, using the technological engineer’s full name under which Arjun was operating the plane.

The plane’s engine and anti-gravity mechanism powered up. Within seconds, the plane lifted off the ground and sped towards his mother and sister in Novosibirsk. As an afterthought, he quickly switched on the plane’s cloaking field to stop himself from being followed.

“What are you doing?!” Arjun was startled and jumped out of his chair. He hit his head on the terminal in front of him. He had completely forgotten that the technological engineer, Jière, was aboard the plane! Jière’s face was red, and a vein in this head was visibly pulsing. “Get away from there!” he bellowed, drawing out a small handgun. At the sight of the weapon, Arjun lunged at him. Before Jière could fire a single shot, Arjun had tackled him to the ground, sent the gun flying out of his grip, and broke two of the man’s ribs in the process. Jière howled in pain and screamed something in French. He continued in English. “Boy! Who do you think you are to do this!” Arjun calmly walked over to where Jière’s gun lay and picked it up. Arjun’s calm composure was misleading. I just committed an international felony! he thought. I assaulted a government agent too! But it had to be done.

Jière was slowly sitting up, wincing often due to the pain caused by his broken ribs. Arjun adjusted the gun’s setting to a lower energy level, pointed it at Jière, and fired. A small laser struck him in the chest, and threw him back against a terminal. His head rolled to one side, and the rest of his body went limp. Unconscious, Arjun thought. He should be out for about 20 minutes. Satisfied, he turned back to piloting the plane. As a safety precaution, he put a motion sensitive alarm around Jière in case he came to.

Arjun put the plane on autopilot. He glanced upwards to the flight status display, and smacked the terminal with his fist in frustration. The display read: “Unauthorized take-off has occurred. An emergency flight plan will take the craft to a base in Pune, India.”

“No,no,no!” muttered Arjun in frustration and anger.



A Classified Petrovite Base



“Ahh!” Rajesh was violently shaken out of unconsciousness by a sharp pain on his right cheek. He swiftly opened his eyes in anguish. He was in a small, brightly lit, white room. He looked up and could see a man standing over him. The man pulled Rajesh up to his feet. He let out a cry of pain as his wounded leg burned in agony. Rajesh’s vision cleared. He could see clearly that the man in front of him was a Petrovite. One of his slit eyes was missing, but the remaining one glared at him in contempt. The one-eyed Petrovite began walking at a swift pace, and stepped through a threshold as its holographic door faded. He didn’t care that Rajesh couldn’t keep up. He turned into a hallway, and after about 10 feet, the Petrovite was literally dragging Rajesh through the corridor. After dragging him for tens of yards, he finally stopped at a doorway. Rajesh thought he could detect the slightest bit of hesitation in the Petrovite’s eyes. He pressed a glowing button on the touchscreen wall, and began to speak in Russian.

“Lord, the biologist is here,” he said excitedly.

There was a moment’s pause before another, more commanding voice replied in the same language. “Bring him in.”

Rajesh’s “escort” hauled him through the doorway as the force field around it powered down. This room was white, as were the hallways and the room that Rajesh had been woken in. The one-eyed Petrovite knelt before another, much larger, Petrovite, possibly the “lord.” The lord dismissed him in Russian. Rajesh’s one-eyed escort then scurried out of the room. The larger Petrovite stared at Rajesh. His green scales looked polished, and no scars were evident on his face as they were on almost every other Petrovite. Rajesh noticed something menacing about his face. Near his left eye, his scales were a different color. Together, they made the image of a flaming serpent, poised to strike.

“I’m certain that you have heard of me,” began the Petrovian lord. Rajesh stared blankly. The Petrovite shook his head in mock dismay. He began speaking again, this time in a louder voice. “My inferiors have told me that you know why you are here. They also told me about your stubbornness to comply.” With that, on cue, a recording of the night the Petrovites had invaded Rajesh’s home began to play. Rajesh could hear his own pain-filled voice.

“I would happily die before serving you.”

“Serve us, eh? So you know why we’re here then?”

The recording stopped. Rajesh built up the courage to speak up.

“You still haven’t told me who you are.”

The Petrovite shook his head and clicked his tongue at him like a mother would scolding her child. “I’m quite surprised you haven’t,” he replied, his tone becoming ominous. His clawed hands gripped his chair in anger. “You insolent fool! How can you not know who I am!” His eyes widened in fury.

“I won’t know who you are if you don’t tell me, now will I?” Rajesh replied evenly, but immediately wished he could take it back when he saw the rage in the Petrovite’s face.

“I AM IGOREK PETROV!” he proclaimed in immense fury, bringing his face withing inches of Rajesh’s.

So maybe he isn’t just a Petrovite. He’s the Petrovite. Rajesh was trembling visibly now, but he stood his ground defiantly. “You may be Igorek Petrov, but I will never help you build your army. As I said before, I would rather die than stoop down to your level.”

Petrov seemed to be struggling to keep his anger in check. “So be it.” he replied icily. He pulled out a small gun from his pocket, aimed it at Rajesh’s head. The room was momentarily filled with a bright blue light, and the biologist was no more.


Prison Camp in Novosibirsk, Russia


Sonia was sitting devastated. The foul air of her prison was permeating the air. They had just taken the lifeless body of her mother away. Fresh tears fell down her face. In the distance, she could hear Petrovites yelling in Russian. The noise came closer. She heard heavy footsteps approach. Two Petrovites were heading in Sonia’s direction, chatting in Russian. Sonia’s Russian wasn’t excellent, but it was good enough that she could figure out what they were saying.

“Yup, she’s the one,” confirmed one of them in Russian, while looking at his scanner’s display screen.

“Any idea why the lord wants her in the secret base?” wondered the second one in the same language.

“Just shut up and follow orders. Never question the lord.”

In Flight, En Route to India



Arjun was 5 minutes away from landing in Pune. The computer had completely shut him out, and notified the Indian Army of his arrival. Now there were going to be at least 500 guns trained on him before he even landed. He could hear something stir behind him. Jière. Arjun turned around to see the French man waking up. He raised the small gun once more, and fired, this time on a higher setting. He had no intention of letting the man wake up any time soon. Arjun dragged Jière’s body towards the aft end of the plane, and opened a secret panel with the French man’s palm that he had discovered earlier. He gave Jière a shove, and his unconscious body fell neatly in the hidden unit. He then sealed and locked the panel. There were no evident signs of its existence. He sighed, momentarily relieved by the temporary solution. He turned and headed back towards the bow of the plane, to his chair, and towards the larger dilemma facing him now, the entire Indian Army.

As the plane began to descend, Arjun could see the city of Pune, his birthplace, coming to life in the early morning light. Then the scene dramatically changed as he headed away from the main city towards a military base camp. The land was filled with military planes, tanks, and assorted anti-aircraft guns, which were no doubt trained on his plane at the moment.

Arjun landed within the next 30 seconds. Almost instantly, the doors of the plane slid open as the Indian Army’s technicians hacked its computers. Armed, masked soldiers charged through the open doorways. Their armor had a flag with horizontal orange, white, and green stripes with a blue chakra in the middle. The Indian flag. Something didn’t seem right.

They all turned their masked heads towards Arjun. They noticed his weapon first, then him. Four soldiers trained their guns on him, while the rest searched the plane. Arjun’s heart was racing. Please don’t find Jière! One of the men holding him at gunpoint spoke.

“Tum yahan kya khar réhé ho?” He spoke Hindi, albeit with a deplorable accent, not at all like the native speaker that he should be. Arjun replied back naturally, demanding that he speak to the senior most officer. Hindi was one of his two mother tongues, as multilingualism was common in India. The four officers looked uncertainly at each other. Their expressions all said the same thing. “Should we? After all, he has committed international felonies and is wanted by the government.” To Arjun’s satisfaction, their logic got the better of them. They roughly escorted Arjun out of his chair, down the plane’s exterior steps, and towards a transport tank that was levitating about 100 feet away. He was then shoved into the rear storage area of the tank with crates of supplies and two heavily armed guards. The tank began to move. Once again, something felt out of place. All the soldiers outside were masked, and so were the two who were with him in the tank. Arjun felt uneasy. One guard was persistently holding him under an uncomfortable gaze. Soon the tank stopped. The doors to the storage area slide open. More soldiers were waiting outside, once again, masked. They took Arjun to a marble-white building. From the point of entry to the elevator, about 50 feet, he was certain that he and his escorts had been scanned and identified over a dozen times. After taking the elevator down several floors, Arjun was led down a long white hallway. There was a trail of blood being cleaned by a robot that led up to a room on his left. Arjun suddenly went numb. He hoped strongly that he wasn’t led into that room. His hopes were fruitless because that’s exactly where his guards led him. One of them held his thumb against the wall, and spoke rapidly and unintelligibly. The holographic door faded away, and Arjun’s eyes widened.

In front of him was the most peculiar and horrifying site. There were two bodies lying on the floor. One was of a beaten, unconscious girl. He turned and looked at the other body which looked like its head had been blasted off. He turned his attention back to the girl. Somehow she looked familiar. Upon closer examination, his heart skipped a beat. Through her scars, welts, blood, cuts and bruises, she was clearly someone he knew. Sonia. He felt nauseous, and hesitantly turned his head back to the dead body. In a moment of revelation, he realized that if that was Sonia, then this could only mean that this person was.....“Dad...” The sound barely escaped his throat.

“Very smart boy indeed.” Arjun jumped. He hadn’t noticed the man standing in the corner with a gun. His appearance was shocking. He did not have skin, but rather polished green scales. His fingers all ended in menacing talons, and his eyes were solid, black vertical slits. Arjun recoiled. He retreated back towards the entrance of the room, but was abruptly stopped by one of his guards. Arjun spun around. The guards’ masks simultaneously retreated into their armor. Arjun took a step back at their hideous scar-ridden, green-scaled faces. He turned back to the man standing over his father’s body. The man, or thing, stepped forward and clutched Arjun’s face in its vice-like grip. Arjun instinctively reached for his face. Something in his eye made it water.

The scaled man raised his gun to Arjun’s head. He spoke softly, but threateningly.

“So sad you had to see your family dead…..,” he said in mock pity. “If your father hadn’t been so resistant, maybe he would have lived.”

Arjun couldn’t bear this anymore.

“Who are you!?” Arjun exclaimed. “What gives you the right to take my family, and m-murder them!!” His hands began to tremble in rage.

“You’re just as ignorant as your father.” He replied, amused. He released Arjun’s face and began to massage his own temple, near his left eye. “Are some people truly this unobservant?”

Arjun gasped. Near his left eye was an image of a flaming serpent. Igorek Petrov’s insignia.

Arjun knew he had to do something. He was going to die if he didn’t try to fight. A quick glance at the armed guards around him told him that running wasn’t an option. Unfortunately, neither was fighting his way out.

Petrov raised his gun to Arjun’s forehead as his scaled lips formed a sinister smile. His finger gently wrapped around the trigger, ready to squeeze.

Arjun felt terrified. More terrified than when his house was destroyed. More terrified than when he learned about his family.

He was suddenly conscious of a sharp stab of pain in his eye. He reached for it and a small plastic lens came out. The little Spy! Maybe all hope isn’t lost!

He kept the minute object between his thumb and forefinger. He then grabbed Petrov’s hand as if he was pulling it away from his face, but discreetly jammed the object in between some scales, and out of sight.

A discreet flicker of a smile appeared on Arjun’s face.



Underground French Military Base


Nicole DuPont hunched red-eyed over her console. She hadn’t slept in 19 hours and was running purely on caffeine. She realized the importance of her job monitoring emergency communications, but she couldn’t accept that there were absolutely no people the government could spare to relieve her. She had begun to drift off for the umpteenth time that night when a small red dot began to flash on her screen. Nicole’s head perked up.


The text near it read: “Little Spy Detected: Pune, India”
Her eyes widened. With rapid keystrokes, she patched herself through to her commander.

“Monsieur,” she said, “you might want to see this…..”