Lights3

Everybody Wants to Rule The World


	He would have liked it if it had been snowing. At least snow would give the scene a little more life and variety, instead of what he now saw outside. There was no snow anymore; the atmosphere couldn't produce precipitation of any kind, just a general medium humidity that froze over everything. No snow, no rain, no weather; just cold of such frightening depth that stepping outside in one's bare fur would result in death in less than five minutes. Temperature gauges that read lower than minus 40 were not generally manufactured, but that's where the needle on the one hanging on the other side of the window was sitting. The temperatures in Canada, in Northern Europe, and on the coast of Antarctica were reportedly around minus 150 Fahrenheit during the day. The Sun was pulling away rapidly, now shining about as weakly it would have peering though a pall of fog. At night, Jupiter glowed up in the sky like a hot spark, with nearly the brightness of a full moon. Already, Earth was in her grip of gravity.

	Jacob looked out the thick window with disinterest. The street was deserted in the early morning hour, and everything from the asphalt to the other homes, mailboxes, and dead trees sparkled with dangerous frost. Sitting near the front foyer near the window (transformed into an insulating airlock) were two pairs of spiked boots, and a coat rack overflowing with clothes. Six layers for each of them, to be exact. A pair of thermal underwear with a custom-sized button-up tailsock. An undershirt and stockings. An overshirt and thicker pants. A sweater and ski pants also with a tailsock. A long coat. Lastly, a thick padded jacket. Two pairs of gloves each, two hats with pointed earmuffs, scarves, and bulky facemasks completed the outfit. They had to breath through snorkels that ran alongside their heads under the hats, so the air had time to warm to a tolerable level.

	It was almost enough to make him laugh. Astronauts on a spacewalk had to take less time to get dressed before going "outside". As it stood, twenty-eight months after the President spoke to the world about their fate, large parts of Earth were already nearly as inhospitable as outer space. Only twelve hours or so remained until the first probe would be launched. "Pandora's Box", as the underground shelter housing the DNA and genome storage and cultural records came to be nicknamed (although the official name was: "The Lazarus Library"), was sealed weeks ago.

	Several months prior, the list of scientists who had worked on the project presented to the President and his associated staff had somehow been leaked. This was the reason why Jake and Alex now had a home on government land in Florida, under close guard, with double-doors, windows like those on a submarine, heaters that could make it warm enough to walk around in shorts, and all those expensive outside clothes.

	"Not that we have much reason to go outside," Jake said to himself, as he walked back to his computer and sat down.

	Alex, asleep on the couch nearby, made a purring sound, but did not rouse. As usual, Jake was plagued by insomnia, haunted by the ticking clock in his mind. They were ahead of schedule, in fact, but he always felt rushed. His silly raccoon of a mate seemed content to just spend time together, but the young fox was ill at ease. He also frequently felt deep guilt. For the luck of their work, for the fact that they had stumbled upon the truth of the Earth's end, they were allowed to be alive.

	They lived on in comfort in a gated development with armed military personnel keeping them safe, working on their project in secret from everyone else but Elle, while across the world millions were dying each day. Civilization was becoming unglued, food was scarce and shelters crowded with illness and death. The oceans were frozen. Those who lived along the equator in places barely warm enough to survive still faced starvation or violent ends. Gangs and cults ruled the remaining cities and preached radical, destructive ideals. Hope that the "time capsules" would be finished in time was growing dimmer as the Sun did. Even those sturdy warmed homes such as their own would not last long when temperatures dropped to minus 200, then 300, then 400.

	In seven months, when the Earth swung past Jupiter, the atmosphere would be ripped away viciously with winds in excess of one-thousand miles-per-hour, destroying everything on the surface wrought by furkind like a tornado over an anthill, and sucking the corpses of all into the swirling maelstrom of the Jovian gullet.

	Even though he would be already dead, the idea of this made Jacob shiver with an existential panic. He couldn't help but think of what was to come. Nothing would be left on Earth but Pandora's Box and a few underground facilities like nuclear shelters from the 50's. The tallest skyscrapers, the broadest bridges, all the expensive cars and grand cruise ships, the satellites and other space junk in Earth orbit... all gone. Even the faces of the Presidents of yore, carved into the mountainside of the Black Hills with bright eyes and proudly set muzzles, would be polished flat by the roaring gales. The Earth would not be a cold tomb for eternity, preserving their accomplishments like the ashes of Pompeii; it was going to be swept clean as if they'd never evolved to stand on two legs and began to build monuments to their vanity and tools to tame the land they walked on. Nothing would remain to mark their existence except the Library, and two tiny machines flinging their way through the vastness of empty space.

	Endless, nearly infinite, cold space.

	Jacob stopped his work, drew his paws up onto the office chair and wrapped his arms around them, wrapped his tail around himself, curling into a ball like a frightened cub. His head swam, his eyes started to glaze, his heartbeat pounding like he'd taken a snort of cocaine.

	Empty... empty and lifeless...

	"Alex. ALEX!" he cried out.

	The other man woke, rolled over and fell onto the floor, and stumbled over frantically. He knelt by the chair and pulled Jake into a close hug, petting his head and kissing his muzzle, riding out the shaking and sobbing. Alex had long since learned to take his mate's panic attacks seriously; the first time, he had insisted Jake could come to HIM; that had ended with Jake's cries turning to an inconsolable hour of screaming and howling.

	"It's alright. It's alright!" he said. "We still have time. Jake, we're going to do this. I promise it'll be alright!"

	After several minutes, Jacob whimpered, then said: "I— ... I need to... n-need t'go to bed with you."

	Alex nodded, kissed him again, and then with some effort picked up the other man into a bridal carry and shuffled over to the bedroom. The fox had learned how best to deal with his issues, too: being naked with his mate brought him a level of security he couldn't feel any other way.

	Despite his insistence that the raccoon was the one obsessed with base physical comforts, it was increasingly becoming the opposite. Most of the time they were not continuing the work on the Xael Project, they were holding one another, cuddling, loving, keeping their fur pressed close together. Alex honestly didn't care; he wanted to hold his little fox until the sky fell down and the lights went out. Jake was torn between his desire to do the same and his obsessive obligation to completing their work.

	It was almost finished. The program was done, the interface nearly done. Their little embryo, Xael, would be ready in time to be put onto the second probe, though this was a false victory. Neither of the two men had any idea how to accomplish that last step. Alex sometimes mused alone that they were doing this just to feel useful in their final days of life, even though it was a futile effort. The decision to use a computer system instead of a biological one had been made, and would not be reconsidered by any stretch of the imagination. Jake knew this, too, but tried to put it out of his mind. Perhaps they could come up with their own Pandora's Box to leave their son in, if another method was unavailable? It was a pointless mental exercise, but they both clung to hope where it existed with the tips of their claws. After all, Xael, himself, needed much more time.

	Even though Jacob had joked about 'The Matrix', the insertion of semantic memories from the government's vast database would not function the same way. It was not going to be an instant transference into the brain like happened in that movie; Xael would not be able to learn Kung-fu in ten seconds flat. Real brains did not work that way.

	Everything that he had to learn, he had to learn it the old-fashioned speed of normal. The first cycle of his development would be a pre-programmed growth to an age of gestation that would allow a mature enough brain to begin to receive the memories. Then, the program would begin to 'teach' the fetus about the world, one lesson at a time; Xael would have to absorb it before moving onto the next portion of data.

	The time it would take for the probe to traverse the distance between stars was just about the amount of time needed for one mind to be taught the sum of an entire world's knowledge and culture. The unborn child would essentially be in school for millions of years, though because of the nature of it, he wouldn't be conscious, or even entirely alive.

	His brain was engineered to be flawless and at the acme of furry mental prowess, so the capacity for all this data was there, it was just untested whether it could hold and process it all. No fur, even those that achieved a ripe age over 100 years — and did not become plagued with dementia — had found a "limit" to their memory. Theoretically, their son's mind could learn everything, but nobody on Earth could answer what would happen when he awoke for the first time. The sheer magnitude of the data might drive the child insane in the initial moment of his real life, or he might not even be able to consciously retrieve the data.

	Neither Jacob or Alex knew what would happen, but they had to try.

	The phone rang. It was very loud, and Alex rolled over to grab for it, but Jacob had already climbed out of bed. Now that cuddle-time was over, he seemed to be okay.

	"Elle? Is that you?" asked Jake. "What is— No I can barely hear you over that roar!"

	The noise, sounding like the middle of a vacuum testing facility, was loud enough for Alex to hear it clearly, but he couldn't hear what the woman was saying.

	Jake said: "Wait. Elle, please slow down! You're not..."

	Alex sat up, his ears pricked and alert.

	"What do you mean it's over?? ... No! Don't say that, your heaters will hold long enough for us to come get you. I don't fucking care about clearance! We'll find a way to get you in here. It's... Elle, please!"

	"Jake, what is she...?" Alex started.

	"Don't tell me about 'last things', this project is all of ours! ... what? Why did...? ... Elle! Who did you tell? ... WHO DID YOU TELL?!"

	The roar suddenly stopped, was replaced by a tinny alarm that then fizzled out. A crash of something collapsing. Then, gusts of wind, and a faraway voice: "I'm sorry, guys—"

	The line went dead.

	He dropped the phone, put a paw onto the desk to steady himself.

	"Jake, I'm so sorry," Alex said, reaching over to hold his mate.

	"..."

	"I know it's not fair. Just, please don't blame yourself."

	"B— b..."

	"'But' what, dear? What did you mean about her telling something?"

	Jake cleared his throat, then shouted: "BUG OUT!"

	Alex didn't ask for an explanation. Both men jumped into action in a blur of flying fur and stampeding paws. Alex ran to the closet and pulled out a pair of insulated bags, carrying them to the entryway. Jacob reached over to the computer and entered a single command. The computer's side-panel popped open, and he reached inside, pulling out several disk drives and stuffing them into another bag. He crawled underneath the desk and came back up with what looked to be a large clear thermos with a white ball suspended inside, attached with a few wires and hoses that came undone with the press of a button; it went into the bag as well.

	The raccoon came back into the bedroom, glanced at the computer and groaned. "Did you HAVE to make it do that?"

	"Of course," said Jake. The monitor displayed a flashing red countdown of several minutes, identical to the self-destruct display from the original Enterprise.

	They ran to the entry, helped each other dress in their multiple layers, and entered the airlock with about thirty seconds to spare. Multiple practice drills had honed their time down to the minimum. Grabbing their bags, they walked out into the night, into the cold, and so wrapped up they could barely feel it. About when they reached the other side of the street, the countdown on the computer reached zero, and the computer... did not explode, but rather unspectacularly let out a metallic belch and then a few strands of blueish smoke. It was enough to erase the remaining data.

	Looking about as coordinated as children wearing false sumo-wrestler suits, they jogged toward the edge of the housing compound.

	'I swear,' Alex said to himself, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying blow through a straw. 'If I die of heat stroke in this damn outfit while the weather outside is a hundred below, I should go to heaven just for the irony.' He would have yelled his sarcasm at Jake, but the little fox wouldn't be able to hear him.

	They only made it about halfway when a large government van pulled up alongside, and two Army soldiers jumped out and pointed rifles at them.

																		* * *

	The back of the van was equipped with heaters that made it at least warm enough for the men to take their outermost coats off, and remove their hats and masks. They tried to talk to the guards while they drove slowly on the treacherous icy road, but they just shook their heads and said nothing. From the cab, they could hear the fizzling of radio static, that suddenly burst into words.

	"Welcome, friends, comrades, and all beloved furs. This is Rob Newhart, on Kay-Enn-Eff-Exx, last civilian broadcast of the world, offering uncensored news and free comfort in the End Times.

	"We come to you today with some sad tidings for the future of our legacy. Numerous confirmed reports are coming in that the Lazarus' Library was taken over yesterday by a group of militarized terrorists claiming allegiance to the 'Messengers of The Mammalian Messiah'. Nothing was stolen, but the computers and machinery for the DNA storage were all sabotaged or destroyed. Scientists on-site that have become hostages have since reported that it is most likely a complete loss.

	"With the destruction of the Earth-based storage, our hope now rests in the two probes, 'Maria' and 'Futura', the first of which will be launched tonight. The timing of the attack on the Library is likely not a coincidence. The 'MMM' cult has shown violent opposition to the reliance of biological life-forms on machines, believing them to be soulless. In the preceding months, their group has gained massive influence, now claiming power over much of Europe and at least half of the USA. According to a statement released this morning:

	"'The time is near. Our Messiah has been found, and soon we will reveal him to the world. Our salvation will come, and sweep aside the ice and cold with fire and wind and the spirit of rebirth. All will become one inside of Him.' they have said.

	"It is expected the The President will have a statement prepared by 6:00pm Eastern Time tonight, shortly after the scheduled launch of 'Maria'. We will broadcast it live and uncensored. Until then, we must as usual shut down to preserve the energy in our battery supply. This is Rob Newhart, Kay-Enn-Eff-Exx, signing off. Good day, and good luck."

	The static returned, and the radio was clicked off.

	One of the guards finally spoke up, saying: "What do you think of THOSE freaks, eh? Didn't get much of their Bible studies, is what I figure. Running around in bare fur with sharp sticks, is what we'd still be doin' without machines."

	Jake said: "I think they should stand up for what they believe in and not let anyone push them around."

	Alex was half a second from a protest, his muzzle open, but he stopped himself. He knew his mate too well; Jacob wouldn't just say something like that without a good reason. He had to have noticed something 'off'. He looked around the van's cabin, saw nothing important, then looked at the guards. His ears tipped forward. Both of them were still holding their rifles, awkwardly, and one of them had his finger at the trigger — poor trigger discipline. The other one's extra-padded combat uniform had an indicated rank of Corporal on the chest, but he was also wearing a beret... with a rank of Second Lieutenant on it.

	"Glad'ja feel t'at way, else we might half t'do this wit'out chu," said the other guard with a wild grin.

	The van stopped, and they could hear the pawsteps of boots on snow. They had arrived at entrance/exit gate to the compound, which served as a checkpoint.

	A voice said: "I'll need your name, service number, reason for departure; you know the drill. Wait, is that you, Carlos?"

	"Yes, it is me, Carlos Santana," said the driver. "My number is one-eight-hundred-marijuana."

	"...excuse me?"

	Both Jacob and Alex jumped nearly high enough to hit their heads on the roof of the van when a deafening gunshot sounded, then a snowy 'flummph' sound of the body collapsing. The van started off.

	"Fuck," said the driver. "Got him all over my sleeve. Good thing this uniform ain't mine!" He and the shotgun passenger laughed.

	 Jake collapsed into Alex's waiting arms, starting to cry. Alex held him, stroked his head, and tried to choke back vomit from the smell of blood wafting in from the cab.

																	* * *

	Jacob looked up from his drooping sitting position as he heard a door open somewhere nearby. Alex was laying down on a nearby cot, staring at the bare concrete ceiling. As Jake heard the sound of two whispering men come closer, he curled his tail tighter around himself and whimpered. He had been given nothing to wear but a shirt and shorts, and expected at any time to be either shot or tossed outside to freeze.

	The prison door was unlocked by a guard who then walked away, leaving his companion standing in front of the doorway. He was an incredibly tall feline (would have brushed his ears on the bars seven-and-a-half feet high above the cell's doorway), calico in pattern, lithe and androgynous despite his masculine voice; he was dressed in a monk's drab robes; he held a string of a large number of beads; his paws were bare, rough, and unshod. Alex sat up and turned to look at him.

	"You need not fear, my friend," he said. "You are our most honored guests. I must apologize for your rough treatment before now; proper precautions must be taken to ensure our own security. I am the head of our order, Kilroy. But come. The scientists are waiting."

	"Oh?" snapped Jake. "Which one is going to apologize for killing our child?! The coolant only lasts an hour, and it must have been three by now!"

	The feline held up a paw in a gesture of peace, saying: "While it is not in my place to understand the details of the procedure, you have my greatest assurance that the 'hoshi no tama' has not been harmed. You see, your 'child' is most important to us, as well. Come with me."

	They followed the monk down the concrete hallways and then down cold steel stairs. They looked like mere children in comparison to the statuesque man in front of them. Jacob wanted to knock him out and attempt an escape, but couldn't figure out a way to telegraph this plan to Alex. They had no guard, and were along the way ensured that they would be treated as prisoners no longer, despite the building being a former prison. But prisoners, they nonetheless remained. After all, where could they go? Stepping outside was to commit suicide via a bullet that took a few minutes to fire.

	After a time, they reached a basement level, and came to a large, complex door that was very thick, crossed with bars and locks, and had an ID-card reader next to it. But the monk merely pushed it open with one paw, effortlessly. Clearly, it was unpowered.

	"Close that behind, would you please?" asked the monk.

	Jake reached for the door and went to push it, but it would barely budge an inch. He called Alex over, and together with all their might, they managed to shut it after considerable exertion. It had to weigh five hundred pounds or more. Jake shivered when he realized he had considered attacking someone who had such ridiculous strength to open it at a touch.

	As they continued walking down another corridor, Alex said: "Strange to have your 'honored guests' close doors for you, especially such heavy ones. Was that intentional? Another test?"

	"As I expected, you two see through everything. I want there to be no secrets between us. As the Holy Fathers, you have officially outranked me, though I would hardly insist you take an official role of spiritual leadership, and of course down here official rankings mean little. As you may have guessed, I am not a Natural Born. Despite the public stance of our order, we are not as Luddites. We embrace technology and machines, and only rebel against the evil of Artificial Intelligence. But such subtle things are difficult for the common folk to rally behind; a simpler stance is preferred. I am sure you understand.

	"I am the result of a genetic experiment — near as I have come to be told — and the women who were my mothers had me created in their own image, at great cost of course. They fiddled around with the details of my DNA, as they wanted me to be tall and strong and beautiful... and not a boy. I suppose they did not believe the will of God to be equal to their own will, and so they cast me aside like a leper.

	"I grew up in an orphanage, then joined the army when a recruiter took note of my abnormal strength. I gained a large number of allies there. But the military was largely disbanded when 'Perigrinus' came, as you know. I founded our order when I discovered our 'hope' and 'future' was to be controlled by computer minds, and I thought this wrong. I do not know if I know the words to convey the joy in my heart when I read about how the two of you felt the same, and even more when your friend Elle contacted me so we could meet. I fundamentally believe your child to be our Messiah, based on my understanding of the myth of the Coonfox. He and I are similar creations, so our meeting must have been preordained."

	"What is this myth all about?" asked Jake.

	"In time, you will know. First, I assume you wish to see your son. It is only a little farther."

	"I've seen other modified children," said Alex, "but never one as strong as you. I'm still not entirely convinced you're not some kind of android."

	The monk chuckled, saying: "I am sure you can ask your mate. No matter how many times I cleanse myself, I doubt I can erase my scent from the nose of a fox. I am no robot; I am Kilroy."

	"He smells like a real cat, alright," said Jake with a shrug.

	They had reached another door, and behind this one was a large laboratory, filled with the first fresh faces the men had seen in hours. It was a small handful of scientists, dressed in pristine lab coats, holding clipboards and pens, and working at various computers. Both Jacob and Alex let out sighs of relief and their bodies relaxed, their stiffened fur lying flat once again. Walking alone with a religious leader that could break them in half was terrifying, but around people like this, they felt at home. Jake's tail was practically wagging.

	In the center of some machinery was the thermos-like device they had brought from their home; inside, the embryo still floated in its tiny ball. Alex went over immediately to inspect the connections, while Jake looked at the status of the child on a nearby computer monitor.

	"Alexander Ichini, I presume," said an extremely short otter who walked up and shook Alex's paw with gusto. "And you must be Jacob Tarrish." He shook Jake's paw with his other arm while not having let go of Alex's. "I'm honored to meet— err, be in your presence, Holy Fathers! I am in charge, err... well I guess now that you're here I WAS in charge, now you two are, and... um, well, yes!"

	He scratched his head and giggled like a schoolboy. "Anyway, as you see we have maintained the status of the capsule — well, Father Kilroy calls it the 'hoshi no tama', or whatever — at pre-insertion step number 157, as your notes indicated, and... um, well I hope you understand we had to read your research notes to ensure the safety of the 'child' and meant no intrusion of your privacy..."

	The little otter scientist ranted on without restraint for several more minutes while Jacob and Alex checked on Xael and spoke to the other scientists. With their help, they restarted the schedule and proceeded with the work. In a few more months, the second probe — the one headed for the distant star-system — would be launched, and they would have to be ready.

	Several hours later, Jacob and Alex retreated to a bedroom that had been built down the hall from the main lab. It was evening at the end of a long day. Before long, there came a knock at the door, and Kilroy the head of the order walked in carrying an old and faded book that was very thick.

	"Scriptures?" asked Alex.

	"One volume of many, actually," said Kilroy.

	Jacob took it and opened it to a random point in the middle. His ears turned this way and that, his brow furled with confusion. "This is a volume for an encyclopedia, not scriptures."

	"But they are! I have labored for months to gather the broken and fragmented entire piece. The greatest encyclopedia of the world. Knowledge is the power which rules our world, not mere stories and fables interpreted by pretenders. Though, as I have hinted at, I am hardly a learned man, myself. One does not receive a quality education at an orphanage. I need the scientists to explain certain things to me, but my lack of understanding does not mean I do not respect it. Knowledge is part of what forms your child, our Messiah. Knowledge is what separates us from the birds and the fish and the lizards that run around knowing nothing but hunger and the urge to breed. Your answers are there." He started to walk out.

	"What did you want us to read?" asked Jake.

	"You will know, my friends," said Kilroy, and he closed the door.

	Jacob opened the encyclopedia. Its pages were so worn that several of them were brittle and cracked, some of them threatening to fall out. Many pages were missing and had been re-written with a flowing, feminine script that was professionally legible.

	He read from the title page, "Volume Two of 'c': 'chimera' through 'czar'. Well, it has to be something between those."

	The two men looked at each other and said: "Coonfox...?" in unison. They laughed and shared a quick kiss.

	Jake found the correct entry and read from it: "Coonfox. An English description for a nameless yokai from the Japanese pantheon of magical beasts, largely unwritten about past the Edo period. A spirit-like animal said to be composed of flame and gale, formed from the union of a mythical Tanuki, and a Kitsune after it had taken female form."

	"I guess that does make you the 'girl' in this relationship," Alex said.

	"Explains why you're usually on bottom," Jake shot right back. He continued reading: "The myth has in modernity largely been supplanted by that of various types of 'onibi', or supernatural fires representing vengeful spirits. In scholarly circles it is typically understood as a local compromise between differing beliefs as to whether such supernatural occurrences are the result of 'kitsunebi' (fox-fire) or 'tanukibi' (tanuki fire).

	"Among some accounts, the Coonfox itself is said to represent the harmony of two disparate halves, the triumph of willpower over nature, and the spirit of rebirth. Reputed to die and then be resurrected over long timescales, this last trait bears a resemblance to the European myth of the Phoenix. Although several physical descriptions were recorded or passed down through oral tradition, surviving accounts bear few common traits, among them, a cloak of... of... Oh, God..."

	Alex looked over and finished reading it: "...a cloak of blue light and eyes that shine like sapphires, similar to the blue fires of other onibi."

 	Jake dropped the book on the floor, wrapped his tail around himself and muttered to himself, teeth chattering. "Blue. It's blue. Like Them. I... I shouldn't have done it! I NEVER should have done it!"

	Alex gripped him by the shoulders, and said: "You had to! We both know that. There was no other way to generate enough power for the probes without it. Your breakthrough with the Others was the key, the missing link. A battery that transcends dimensions."

	"I didn't want to be a part of that project! I wanted to forget that part of my life. WE KILLED MILLIONS OF THEM!"

	"It was a war, Jake. Darling, you had to! It was us or Them, and they had all the cards. Zero-point energy manipulation, biological-disintegration fields, and a hole between dimensions big enough to stuff the Titanic through; and They just kept on coming from their world to ours. You stopped it. You saved us. Why would you want to forget that?!"

	"It's not just that. Alex... Alex I— we put that shit in Xael, too! That's what the myth of the Coonfox means. We put part of the Others inside of HIM!"

	"No. You know that isn't true. We just used the same base principals so his mind could accept all the data. His is a self-contained pocket-dimension interfacing with a multifold brain, not Their world. Xael has no connection to Them. Only the probe does, and it's a soulless machine."

	"The probe... it's connected to him, to the database, to everything. We have to shut it down. I can't do this. I can't face Them again!"

	"They're all dead, Jake," he said, kissing the top of the fox's head. "They can't hurt you anymore. I promise."

	But Jacob said no more, just shook his head and started to wail and cry, and Alex took him to bed without another word. It took an hour for him to calm down. After they finished, they got re-dressed and sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed. Jake was itching to try to run away, but Alex held him back with ironclad logic and lots of kisses.

	"We have to finish this. We're so close," said Alex. "If the last thing I do is to hold you when the world ends, I'll be okay with that. But both of us want to, need to, see Xael fly. He's our son. We can't let him die here with the rest of us."

	"I know. I'm just going to have to live up to it. I put that... stuff into him; it was my idea. It was my design, and my..."

	He smiled, and started to sing:
	"It's my own design,
	It's my own remorse.
	Help me to decide.
	Help me make the most
	Of freedom and of pleasure.
	Nothing ever lasts forever.
	Everybody wants to rule the world."

	Alex reached over and grabbed Jacob's paw, squeezed it tight, and sang:
	"There's a room where the light won't find you.
	Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down.
	When they do, I'll be right beside you."

	"So glad we've almost made it.
	So sad they had to fade it.
	Everybody wants to rule the world."

	Jake cuddled up to the raccoon and said: "I don't really want to rule the world, to be honest. But now we at least rule this silly little cult."

	"I don't know about that," said Alex, his eyes narrowed.

	The door was open; Kilroy was standing there. Jake silently cursed the feline's quiet pawsteps. The monk said: "I was hoping you would join me. The President is about to give his speech about the launch of 'Maria'. From what I understand, you will want to hear it."

	They left the quiet room and walked behind him once again, and once again they were in fear.