Erik nodded absently as the Admiral's voice once again cut out. The ship made an almost imperceptible drop, and then began to rise ever so slowly. Erik's "window" showed the desert slowly receding, as if falling away from the ship. He sat on the bed, staring out at the last glimpse of his home, his Earth. As the ship rose ever higher towards the abyss of space, he watched the desert shrink to fade into the surrounding landscape. He could see seas and land and forests, tainted faintly brown. He saw fires burning in major cities where riots had yet to be put down. He saw the desolate landscape of Southern Europe over the Mediterranean. The Earth had already been dying, the Devastators were just here to finish it off. He absently pondered the last time he had convinced the Earth could be saved. [hr] [i]"Sir, this doesn't make any sense. There's no phonetic pattern, no basis for symbolism, its just a repeated series of chittering." Erik glowered and his intern, Richard, a young Englishman. "This is barely different from the sounds of squirrels or crickets even." Richard wrung his hands. "Damnit boy," Erik swore, "You aren't listening hard enough. There most certainly is something there. Listen not to the pitch or the rhythm, but pace and volume. It's the same few series of sounds, but it varies massively by volume, and sometimes is slow and drawn out, and other times nearly as fast as a bullet." His English analogies needed work. But he knew he was close, there was something in these sounds that was a language, and if they could just figure out the language, then maybe, just maybe, they could stop this. Richard sighed. "Look Dr. Karlson, I got a date tonight, some I'm gonna head out." "Fine, fine, nine AM tomorrow, we're going to listen to it backwards I think. Maybe if we adjust for background noise..." he trailed off as Richard shook his head and left the older man to his work.[/i] [hr] That was the last time Erik had seen Richard. The boy had been killed in a riot rampaging across St. Johns towards the city hall. The rioting had been going on since the Three Day War, even before Project Genesis had been announced. The Canadians were terrified, and rightfully. This rampant violence had convinced Erik there was nothing left on this planet, and it was on that day he had left Canada. He had few friends left, most had either fled home to be with their loved ones in the last days, or else had become either drunks or druggies. Erik was neither. He had had a job to do. But he had failed. Erik watched as the stars appeared. He had never been off-world, and the stars stunned him. The vastness of space was simply astonishing. "VsemogÅ­shtiya Chudno" he whispered in Bulgarian. He turned and looked down again at Earth. The lights of the cities were sprawled out, a vast dark spot across much of Europe. He shook his head. At this point, he much preferred the stars. He wished he could see Mars and the fleet, but he knew that was impossible. It was time to go. Finally time to push past the bounds of Human possibility and go see what was out there. Erik smiled.