I share all I know in my journal, which your leader is now in possession of. This letter is my voice to you all. I have been a daughter, a friend, a wife, and a mother; yet I have also suffered great loss.
When the first changing war hit, I was not even born. I will not be alive when the last roars its ugly face, for war is part of human evolution. We’re all human, well, we used to be.
Various changing wars have occurred throughout time. But, not until the year 2627, were there any wars that would change the way we live, in particular, here in America. With overpopulation running rampant, some say the first changing war was our destiny. It began with political warfare and lead to nuclear destruction. This world was left with only the lucky or wealthy individuals. Those with money had made prior arrangements, so to speak.
Certain regions were hit less hard and those citizens also survived. All the world leaders battled for supremacy, and with our own country still a superpower, we were the worst hit. When the others joined to derail us, even centuries of terrorism paled in comparison. Death was all around, and the United States of America was knocked to its core.
But our country was strong. Scientists took over after changing war one. A robotics outburst helped to reshape America. However, these machines were not human in thought, religion, spirit, or matters of the heart. Thus, the world became more and more lost in its mental state of living. Marriage was no longer a norm for humans. Citizens took partners as safety friends, and often took multiple partners for the same reason. The more people one had within their inner circle or family, the more survival power each so-called clan would have. For all knew more changing wars were to come.
A century or so later, changing war two came, the Holy war. This war would see religion take a turn for the worse. Standard worship was lost to the general population. Then again, the spirit is not physical, and those who chose to still believe in a single Omnipotent entity carried on in the shadows. The races of America had become so intertwined, names of various notable monarchs became more like folklore, and people’s actions now formed their standard of living.
Overzealous religious leaders who had lost the edge, started to form huge corporations or fellowships to keep their faith announced and make sure all their followers would still listen.
Those who held faith would be taken to paradise or heaven, while those who sinned and lost faith would die by demon locusts, boiling seas, storms of fire or blood, and minions of the antichrist. Even so, the world was not what it used to be; life was in survival mode and not many people believed in such preaching.
With the churches of any named gods no longer having power, holy unions began to falter. Sexuality became more open and more diverse. Human beings were labeled a, b, c, d, and even e sexual. Bi, gay, straight, no one really cared anymore. If time and desire met, then you mated, it was as simple as that. Eventually, new and strange drugs became the steady diet of Americans, which were used to cope with their ever-changing ways of life. These were not the drugs of centuries ago. Advanced technology and science were at an extreme all-time high, and, well, let’s just say, strange and odd did not represent the greatest of names in these cases. It was not until biological warfare hit its highest point that society could actually say all law abiding fractions had been lost. In time, all religion died.
Amazing and beyond-belief biological creations now began to rule human existence, and one’s capacity for knowledge soared to astronomical proportions. Then the clones came. Yes, there was a good argument for a more proficient robotics era, but these clone creations went way too far. Mixing DNA and special drugs, half-humans entered the planet with a vengeance. The more clones a world power could have in his or her stable, the more power they would hold. We should have known better. Cloning saves lives, and makes people very happy with the option of reincarnation. But, the fierce leaders of such a time saw it differently. A mixing of human genes, robotics, drugs, and animal species now formed an elite, super-thinking machine. Regular robots were also increasing in large numbers. This changed the face of life as it once was.
But again, at the turn of the new century, Americans held on. Our military was all but depleted and better weapons became a major focus. Many states broke off and formed their own unions, in particular, several inner states. The once proud USA was broken. As time went on, genetic changes mixed with steroid-like drugs, extraordinary brainpower, computer-implanted chips, and robotic-like force fields made normal gun power somewhat obsolete. Only those with vast wealth could now be called world powers. The land of the free had become the home of the more fortunate.
Fortress cities sprung up all about. One TV station dominated the knowledge of humans on the outside, and of course, it was owned by the richest of corporations. Sports were no more, except for one such event held yearly called Ultimate Death, a weapon to weapon gladiatorial showcase held by the same power-hungry corporation; not only for profit, but as a meeting ground to make new deals with other world powers. Such gladiator events were rare outside corporation standards, but did also exist in dots about the land.
And now, even more war is moving in our direction.
Half-breed clone creations owned by the rich corporations are slowly taking the place of men, and such craziness could lead to a world never imagined by any of us. One day, clones and robots could actually rule our world. This concept is simply unthinkable . . . but, all sisters, start thinking! Birth rate is being carefully monitored and slowly lowered, probably even now, as your sister reads this letter.
Great clone armies have taken to the hunt, yet their success has come only partially. However, so much damage is still being done. Those who resist are disposed of. The United States of America is only a distant vision of its past glory. The blueprint of life, DNA, can no longer be measured in any normal terms. Our world draws near oblivion.
However, as you all know, our secret sisterhood is still active. Many years ago, the world’s best scientists and evolutionists teamed up with myself to make a difference. Hope is what leads human beings on, me in particular. We leaders are known openly as hope bringers, while I myself began to rise in notoriety as being some kind of witch. At the end of the last biological war, the sisters with the evolutionary drug, Starigen 6280; a super-genetic cloning substance, a human growth hormone to inject beauty, strength, and brain power, all-in-one, lifted the core of our operation. Always a step ahead of the diabolical, crazed world leaders, our sisterhood did, and shall, hold out hope for a country in deep despair. We are homegrown from spiritualists who worshiped Mother Nature, and relics of liberty, freedom, and justice; the Mystical Slayers are now bred not only with superior intelligence, grace, and physical prowess, but also with true purpose. Each was, and still is, a master of martial arts, lasers, and bladed weaponry, as well as chemistry, scientology, physics, robotics, healing, and advanced computer technology.
Today is an apocalyptic world with laws governing few, and with so many questions yet to be answered, there will be no giving up. We, the Mystical Slayers, are the last hope in returning America to what it once was . . . the land of the free. In my eyes, though they now grow weary, the former United States is still in good hands. I . . . we, have worked so hard to install the proper tools and virtues into each of you gathered here today. I could not be more proud.
So, after all these extended years of living, now I choose to die . . . today is my last day. My bones grow weary, my memory is fading, and I welcome the rest. If I could hug you all, I would. A hug should always be the first step in showing someone that you care.
I end this journal entry with a saying which is famous to our sisterhood, "That flag shall wave again." Carry on, my loves. Be amazing, stand tall, and make a difference even if to the smallest of things. One day, I just know, women are going to save this world.
Goodbye, my sisters.
-Metaya Valteese
***
Raegan’s eyes slowly opened. She was resting in a hidden ocean retreat. The
palm trees waved in a soft, early evening wind. A white canopy rested overhead and the sand between her toes felt soothing. She stood and looked out to the ocean. A figure waded from the water, closer and closer, until a young girl stood before her in the shallow sea.
"Tell me what has become of my world?" spoke the child. Raegan, at first, thought this might be a trap. But no, this was someone who needed an answer. The little one spoke again, "I am forever lost in this ocean of tears. Like a ghost ship at sea, I dwell here for eternity." A slight breeze tossed Raegan’s blond dyed hair into her face and she gently pushed it aside. She looked deeply into the child’s eyes.
For five years, Raegan had been a Q-Jin leader. A master of knowledge, technology, weapons, and martial arts. She was a member of a sisterhood of highly intelligent women, working as saints to save the American dream; a vision of restoring the country to its once great prominence. How could she refuse to answer such a child searching for freedom?
"What is it that you seek?" whispered the Mystical Slayer. "How can I set you free?"
The child’s hair blew across her face, and the air smelled fresh. "I once lived on Earth in great peace. I died in the year of 2628, here in the southern tip region. The president told us we’d be safe. Then the tidal waves came, the land flipped upside down, and all was lost. He spoke of the second coming when Jesus would return. I was to be taken to heaven and the others who caused us great harm would be left behind. Why was this not true?"
Wading out into the blue sea, Raegan took the girl in her arms and held her close. Tears formed and the Q-Jin led the young one to her hammock. They sat together in the warm sand and she told the child all she knew. She spoke of the changing wars and of times gone badly, that there has been no second coming to speak of, no demon locusts, and no boiling seas. Everything that destroyed this great country was manmade, and ruined entirely by man himself. She told the little one that there were no minions of the devil, and the lake of burning sulfur at her people’s time of perish was a nuclear bomb.
Raegan continued, "Today I live my life to restore what once was. I exist to make the United States of America a place to call home again. The one thing I must do is restore faith in the way people live, to give hope for a new government, and to oust the false prophets of the Y-Wood Corporation.
"You were sent here to me, little one, as a ghost to be taken. To be raptured with this so-called second coming. To wait by the ocean for the return of Jesus. Today you at last know the truth. There is no second coming, you were ushered to the sea right before the devastation came, and there was no other choice at that time. You were told different, you were lied to."
The young girl took on a new appearance after Raegan’s words, for she finally knew the truth. She seemed relieved. A seagull sailed by above them. Before Raegan could say any more, the child, now set loose, backed away into the water, back to where she came from.
Raegan, now in a sweat, woke from her slumber, lost in equilibrium. Double vision again; a deep breath followed. At first, she thought she was with Metaya, the legendary Mother from years ago, and then it occurred to her that she was dreaming. Or was she? The gathering of all sisters was over. She knew there was work to be done.
Chapter 3
Y-Wood Corporation’s rise in worldwide notoriety came mostly from its advancements in technology; robots work for free, and don't need healthcare. The aspect of 'made in the USA' had become coined by Y-Wood for some time now. Arn Marcou inherited the Corporation from his father; the imposing, six-foot-six, Delve Marcou. However, it was not a life with a silver spoon fairytale. The younger Marcou, also tall and dapper, worked his ass off. The pride and joy of all his creations was not other planets, nor was it being the richest man alive. It was his pet robot, his mega-bot, the one and only, Omagus.
Arn had been the king of the bigwigs for many years. Yet he was not dumb. He was a nerd who had a brain that learned everything possible. He cheated by using neural implants even at a young age. His IQ was higher than anyone in the Corporation by the age of fourteen. Arn Marcou was destined to be the leader, even if he was the only one who thought as much, and he wanted it badly. When his dad, the president, had died, others thought to try and take his mantle. But Arn had already prepared for such a day. None could stand in his way, or in the way of Omagus.
Creating such an intelligent robot was not so hard. It was the intricate details of his body, the elite metal, the indestructible parts, and most of all the hologram-like sections that offered a three dimensional look to this very special blue, silver, and black machine man. It actually had become a competition of sorts.
Field Commander, Berlin Purcell, was also busy at work creating his version of a super robot. The company, before his father's death, left Arn little leverage in decisions involving new inventions, especially robots that could think for themselves. The bottom line was that his father, Delve Marcou, had a fear of these kinds of robots. He would often say, "One day, these fucking creations will take over, and humans will be the ones gone to this world."
When his dad was gone, Arn and many of the top executives began steadily building thinking bots. However, no one really finished theirs except the new president and the second to top, General Purcell. Accidents strangely happened to the many who tried competing with the two. In truth, robotics at its now highest level began with this competition.
Purcell had himself a fine fighting robot he named Galax. This smart machine was also the colors of silver, blue, and black, but unlike Omagus, who had separated eyes and body parts at various points via hologram images, Galax had his muscles showing via bulging, wire-like sections which made him look really strong and powerful. Both robots were marvels of the new generation.
And in the end both were the only two kept by the corporation. Arn welcomed the general's robot to the family and proudly promoted Purcell to top combative leader. The head general in the world; thus giving him more money, more land, more soldiers, and more stardom. The general had no choice but to back the son and new president of the Corporation. And now, Arn Marcou himself had grown to six-foot-three. He was the winner of the best super robot, and all admired his masterful work.
Omagus became the new CEO of Y-Wood's top protector, a bodyguard, and an elite company bot. He ruled all others in the home base stadium of Old Fenway in Boston. Galax, on the other hand, became the general’s right hand robot, a killer, and a terror on the road.
"We, in essence, are all cyborgs already," spoke the new president of the Y-Wood Corporation. "For centuries we have sought answers online, tracked our movements via a global positioning system, monitored others by devices, clung to our electronics with great resolve, sought out neural implants to make us smarter, and in truth, the world will never look back."
Arn continued with his proud statement, "My father was an innovator, a genius of technology and advancements. We're going to take his findings and success one step further. If machines are going to dominate our existence, you better damn right realize we are going to benefit from it, not suffer." In his newly renovated meeting room, he went on to thank the many elite brains and special people invited to his first ever presidential speech. He knew how to schmooze; how to play the room. People began to believe in him, and that's all he needed to take his first steps towards what would become the single most powerful entity in the galaxy; Arn Marcou’s Y-Wood Corporation.
Everyone knew his was right. The new boss had arrived. In the years to come, he kept his word; at least for the rich and mighty. They would prosper, while the rest of the population suffered. Digital currency with a centralized computer banking system now governed the world. That system, that money, was now under his control. Robots became better, smarter and they were everywhere. In most of the world there was an apocalyptic feel in every city, town, and hovel. He could not care less about the others. Hope was low, hunger and famine high. The general population needed a change though, even if just to show his power to them all and his now top position
. At Y-Wood, many years later, he would come up with a solution. His father never took such power and technology to the level it needed to be at. He would do it himself now. And so it began.
***
Chaya had a little secret. The dark-haired beauty kept a private apartment in Boston which few people knew about. But she was traveling so much these days, she hardly used it. Today she did. She walked around in her black bra and matching black bikini boy shorts, finally, for once, getting a chance to relax. It was not the hidden spot that was most interesting for her, it was her companion. He was white, and silver, and metal. She was a highly regarded speaker of the spirit, and a member of an elite sisterhood of freedom fighters most people referred to as the Mystical Slayers. But for him, an intelligent robot, she was a Q-Jin, a term used in the technology and robotics field.
His name was Kron. The two of them embraced and looked one another in the eyes. "I’m so happy I have a free day for once, and I’m glad you’re here with me," spoke Chaya. He looked deep into her eyes and seemed pleased.
"I too am happy, dear," he replied. Kron was not just any bot. He was a wonderful, smart companion who was programmed to be this way by a friend Chaya knew from Japan. He could function much like any man, he had a full body, lips, eyes, working digits, and a male sexual organ. The two would make love this day.
They shared a sensual time in bed together. It was an experience she, his human mate, loved. Orgasm after orgasm, she finally collapsed back onto the bed. Chaya rested her head on his chest, her breath slowly calming down. "No one knows about you, Kron. Sometimes I feel weird about this. But we work together well, we fit nicely. You’re a good friend."
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