Author's Note - I made some substantial changes to the first chapter, so if you already started reading, it's probably worthwhile to go back and reread that one. Thanks!

2 – The Strike

"Everything changed on August 14th, 2067, the day that became known as The Strike." The 3-D picture continued to show an American flag with nine stars ruffling in the wind, but apparently Fin's deadpan expressions didn't lend well to narrating a video, for Knight was pretty sure he was hearing a voice that sounded like Morgan Freeman's.

"On this day, Vulcan terrorists took away our innocence forever," the voice continued. "It was not the Chinese as once presumed."

THE CARBON FREEZE flashed on the screen before fading into the background.

The American flag changed into a landscape that Knight instantly recognized—it was Navy Pier in Chicago. His family had traveled to the Windy City countless times for weekend outings and his winter swim meets as a boy. The scene gave him a feeling of nostalgia, albeit brief. The shops, restaurants, Ferris Wheel, and even the families strolling on the premises were coated in a weird gold, metallic sheen. It reminded Knight of the tinfoil that covered chocolate Easter eggs.

"That gold color you see is from the first of many carbon freezes, a technology that permanently hardens everything in its midst. Imagine that you're walking on Navy Pier, enjoying the Chicago sun on Lake Michigan, only to be become encased in an open-air museum exhibit of terror… forever."

The video zoomed in on a dog that was frozen in mid-jump to catch a tennis ball from his owner. In the background, Knight noticed that the owner had an all too perfect, ridiculous grin on his face.

He sighed. "Hey, Fin. Can we stop this thing for a minute?"

The video paused. "Please watch the rest. All questions will be answered in complete detail at the end."

The narrating voice came back into the room. "The Carbon Freeze of the entire northern half of the United States was only the beginning. Soon after, the Vulcans, and not Russian extremists as once presumed, utilized meteorological warfare that was the first of its kind."

The words THE SULFURIC STORMS flashed in the air before fading into the background.

The narrator explained that the sulfuric storms rained for months on end, completely flooding the southern half of the United States and nearly all of the Eastern seaboard, including New York City, which had become something of a Venetian-like wasteland. According to the video, the population today was less than one thousand.

"Over the next several decades, the United States was a nation at war. Indecision about how to handle the attacks led to more internal strife, ten civil wars to be exact, until the country nearly destroyed itself. But today"—uplifting guitar music now came into the video—"on the seventieth anniversary of The Strike, we celebrate our glorious capital, Las Vegas, constantly secured by its protectors, ten individuals engineered to be physically indestructible. We also celebrate the nine colonies surrounding our Vegas capital."

"Timeout. Fin? Hey, Fin?" Knight looked for a glass window or door to knock on. The room remained as dark and as empty as before.

"I will answer all of your questions at the end of the video," said Fin.

"Can you stop it for one second? This is unbelievable."

"It is," answered Fin. "To think of what G has accomplished being able to secure—"

"No, I mean it is un-believable. I don't believe it. This video means that basically one city exists in the United States, and it's Las Vegas?"

The narrator and guitar music ceased, and the video transformed into the hologram of Fin again. "That is nearly correct. There's Las Vegas and some towns in the colonies around it. There's also a narrow stretch of surviving green land stretching from Vegas to Cincinnati, the other remaining city."

Knight shook his head in disbelief. "There's Vegas and Cincinnati? For real? Those are the two remaining cities."

"That is correct."

Knight again looked around the room, looked for anything that might indicate this was all a ruse. "In 2012, there were some three to four hundred million people in the country. How many are there now?"

"Exactly ten million, one hundred fifty-four thousand, and twenty-nine in Las Vegas."

Knight scratched his head. "That's pretty exact."

"G keeps tight control on its population."

"And how many in Cincinnati?"

"You mean the Vulcans?"

"All the terrorists in the country live in one city?"

"Yes. Last estimate was somewhere around nine and a half million."

"But—I mean, how is that—"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I must interrupt. We really don't have time for a full history lesson today. I can tell you that after The Strike, the civil wars that plagued the country for decades led to two camps. The people governed by G are civilized, rational, and prefer order, structure, and assurance that there will be a tomorrow. And the Vulcans of Cincinnati are those that want nothing to do with structure and rules. They are constantly a threat to what we do, and tonight, there is strong intel that they will be attempting a second Strike."

"Is the afterlife an episode of Star Trek?"

"Excuse me, sir? I'm not sure I follow."

"Nothing." Knight was still waiting for someone to yell, "Surprise!" Except maybe that would have been as ridiculous as the actual story he was hearing. He was positive that he was executed in the summer of 2012, so either this was real or the afterlife was like a comic book.

"Sir, can we continue with the video?"

"Sure, Fin." Knight took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles. "Earlier, you said you needed my help urgently tonight. What exactly are you wanting me to do?"

Fin hadn't shown any real emotion throughout their entire discussion. Knight might not have noticed because he was so groggy, apparently from being cryogenically frozen for over a hundred years. But when Fin smiled at him for the first time in the dark room, it chilled him to the bone, and suddenly this whole thing felt very real.

"We have big plans for you Knight," said Fin. He transformed back into the video. This time the words, THE PROTECTORS, hung in the air and were energized by even more extreme guitar music.