Since 2001, when the United States panicked over an aggressive terrorist attack, our ancestors knew that America had fallen from its place as a world power. The shift was occurring. Plans had to be changed. Strategies devised. It began with four people determined to forage their own frontier; a place they could govern at will and see to it that peace prevailed for their children. But it would be over a century of meticulous planning and generation-raising before this journey came to fruition. Some left the group; some joined. Funds were raised through the years but so was doubt. America did suffer war. Many of the group retired to other countries. It was a more immediate solution. Not all were crazy enough to wait until a ship was built, until a plan for colonization was made, until a planet was sought. But many did wait. Peace and quiet. It was all they wanted. In 2152 we could finally raise homage to those four for what they set up for us-- a planet, a people, a government and a life to our own.

But we began greedily, ignoring the strict rules of abandoning all contact with Earth and building for ourselves great palaces. Imported and ornate ceilings, fixtures, furniture, and art littered the precarious wood and drywall foundations of our kingdom. Only thirty-one days into completion and the largest sandstorm imaginable tore it all to shreds; fodder for the unruly sands. Before this disaster, we had ignored what was around us. Ignored the extremely hot and arid climate, ignored the patterns of wind, ignored the strange, native beasts of this land. We had tried, like the ravenous humans before us, to mold everything to our will. Another mind-shift. Careful planning told us where to build, stones replaced drywall, thick reed-like plants provided sturdy, thatched doors, and diligent observation of the natives taught us how to survive. Our ship had arrived with 180 persons. We had but 103 left. Most suffered dehydration and heat-stroke. Some gave up and returned to their dissected Earth lives. But as our naivety of this land lessened, the more insistent we were on conquering it.

Eventually we built new palaces--cool stone castles like this was 1512, complete with wall-sconces for candles and torches. Our engineers crafted dozens of windmills to pump water into cisterns. Our hunters brought in beasts and our scientists, as a last, brilliant return to Earth-knowledge, brought back lab supplies to create for us a race of genetically engineered workers that would be built to withstand the harsh climate. The giant lizards we had studied were intricately spliced with human DNA. We were playing God and no one dared say a word against it. The group waited 16 months to see their new companions of labor. They were ugly, but altogether wondrous. These creatures, called “Sodali” derived from the Latin for “companion” were everything and more. Unfortunately, we had wiped out their ancestral lizards in the process, but we knew the less information they had, the less likely they were to question us. We needed total monarchy.

We taught them English. We built them homes and schools. They worked for us and we treated them well. To ensure their population growth, and our power over them, we emptied them of life-creating organs. Every male and female was sterile. We created them, from test-tube to sand and began to tweak each one to better suit the colony. Some we made congenitally creative, some logical, others with more muscle mass. Each was predestined to be a part of society in their own guild of expertise. It was perfection.

Until they rebelled. We knew it would happen. We had kept them in check for six generations. We kept them in the dark longer than we had imagined possible. For all our hopes and dreams, it seems 'complete peace' and 'forever' will not coexist. War was upon us.