Thomas Black loosened his collar as he sat at his desk at the ominous, dark Nicrotex Corporation in the smog-laden city of Los Angeles. Worthless environmental controls he thought to himself I don’t know who programmed this system, but 79 degrees is not comfortable for me. At four A.M. he was exhausted and irritable. When the phone rang he started and fell from his soft, mobile office chair; he got up and looked around, and remembering the time, felt foolish to look and see if anyone noticed. He answered the persistent scream of the phone, “Hello,” he said groggily.

“Mr. Black,” said a dark familiar voice “your presence is needed in the Amazon immediately. Your flight departs from the corporate landing pad at the top of Nicrotex facility at approximately five o’clock A.M.” With this the conversation was over. He had his orders and knew not to disobey.

Luckily, he thought, the helicopter lands on the roof of this building. The night watch man smirked as Black scrambled for his briefcase and suit jacket.

“Lemme’ guesh ordersh from the top,” he said flashing large, sharp fangs, the cause of his terrible pronunciation of S’s.

“Yup,” Black replied picking up the pace by the guard. So this is the new abomination they’re calling security these days he thought looking back of his shoulder at the monstrous security officer.

“I heard that,” growled yet another guard from the deep shadow of the staircase. Telepathy? he thought confusedly, why give building security telepathy?

“I don’t know… But I like it,” the guard gave away his position by exposing the same yellow eyes and huge teeth. With that he leaped from the shadows, Black dodged just in time to save himself from being thrown down the stairs.

“Sorry, guys-,” he paused, now more than a little intimidated by the massive man, “d-didn’t mean to offend you,”

“Hey no problem, it happensh all the time,”

The guard grew to an enormous size, enormous even compared to his six foot five human body. Scales emerged from his skin, claws sprouted from his normal hands; the guard turned into a giant, purple hulking beast in the shredded guard uniform. “You die!” the guard-thing grunted through it’s enormous, razor sharp bottom teeth. It lunged for Black’s throat, but he was already on his feet and running.

The thing roared from the top of the staircase; Thomas half stumbled, half sprinted down the steps. When he looked over his shoulder he sighed in relief, it wasn’t following him any more. Just when he started slowing his pace on the stairs the guard dropped right in front of him. Again Black was saved by his quick reflexes; unfortunately for the guard the stairs were not quite up to code. Black chuckled as he nimbly stepped out of the path of the falling monstrosity. He stepped to the edge of the rather large hole left by the falling body and laughed again as he looked down at the countless floors through which the guard had fallen.

Dammit man, you could have at least run UP the stairs, turning back to head up the stairs to the to the heli-pad

On the roof, atop the Nicrotex facility a large double-turbined corporate helicopter was waiting for him. As he threw open the rooftop door he was greeted by a spray of bullets from the chopper; he instinctively dove to the ground, but the bullets were not meant for him. A savage shriek arose from the dark corridor behind him. A large slimy black creature fell to the tar sealed roof.

When the shooting ceased Black gingerly pulled himself up and jumped in the helicopter. The inside of the chopper was a sharp contrast to its black exterior, plush and velvety red.

“What the hell was that?” Thomas gasped.

“That was what we’ve termed a tintmorph,” said a well-dressed businessman, “they have the ability to completely change skin color and patterned to match almost any surface.” The man who said this was your typical corporate manager, but he was in strong contrast to the other passengers of the chopper. These other men were dressed in gray military fatigues and bulletproof vests each with his own long-range sniper-rifle. Their eyes were completely black and slightly enlarged.

“Who are you?” and noticing these men Black coughed, “what’s with the sharp shooters?”

“I’m Don Cassedy, and they’re the new Amazon issue snipers, FS-26’s,” the businessman said.

“I know what they are,” Thomas said, “but why are they here?”

“We were expecting another attack by the tintmorphs.”

“You mean this has happened before?”

“Once.”

“When?”

“The last time we needed to make a shipment from LA to Brazil.”

“Who manufactures them? Or do they occur naturally?” he finished with a hint of sarcasm. The chopper filled with polite chuckles. Despite the subtle wisecrack, the atmosphere in the craft still remained dark and serious. Thomas turned and looked out the small, port, window to see, much to his horror, a small army of the purplish guard things piling out onto the roof.

“Go you idiot!” Black shouted and the pilot slowly turned and looked at him questioningly, “Move the damn chopper! Now!” With this said the large chopper seemingly sprung from the ground as if as much afraid of the danger outside as the passengers in it.

“Excuse me,” Black said, “but I was under the impression that security was installed to protect the employees”

“ I know that,” Cassedy replied with a tinge of annoyance, “but someone has introduced a genetically- enhancing bacterium specific to the security ‘personnel’ that gives them telepathic abilities. They are not super-intelligent, so they never used to know people didn’t like them, but when they were given the ability to hear people’s thoughts they developed fatal inferiority complexes. Four high ranking company officials have been found dead in bloody heaps already, you, Mr. Black, are very lucky. The Termination Board is looking into the dilemma; these monsters should be gone by the end of the month.”

Black was jolted from sleep nearly seven hours later when the chopper roughly convulsed as it landed. “The Amazon?” he asked groggily.

“No,” Cassedy replied,” we’re simply changing transport.” FS-26 opened the sliding door. Black sat up, wiped the drool from the window, struggled with his seatbelt then finally stood and exited the craft. “Welcome to the beautiful villa of Necoya-“

“Necoya?” Black inquired.

“Necoya, Costa Rica a small highland town completely owned by Nicrotex,” with this Black recoiled in shock; he knew that Nicrotex was powerful but owning a small Central American town? “ This,” Cassedy continued, “is where all of our wonders in creation are born.”

Black’s jaw dropped “You mean-“

“Yes, every bio-weapon that Nicrotex controls is manufactured here” Cassedy finished solicitously. When he thought about it he realized how tactically intelligent the founders of this huge corporation really were. The idea of one whole isolated town used completely for genetic research was incredible. No powerful government to regulate testing, no national interest, no limits, and no information leaks. At the same time his admiration was tainted by his humanity, he was horrified of what the innocent citizens of this villa were exposed to. Who knows what atrocities occur in this operation? He thought with an outward sigh.

Noticing this sigh Cassedy inquired, “What’s wrong Black?”

“Nothing just tired I suppose,” he replied smoothly. He knew that he couldn’t let them know he felt compassion; he had heard rumors of what happened to those that did, and shuddered. Escorted by the troop of FS-26’s they joined a caravan of jeeps heading down the steep mountain road. The two suited men looked extremely out of place amongst the muddy jeeps and camo-clothed snipers.

“Where are we going?” Black shouted over the rushing air and roaring engines.

“You’ll see…”

Two hours later the fleet of jeeps stopped at what looked to be a small tribal hut of some sort. Black wonder why this stop was made, he soon found out. Upon entering the hut he saw that it was not what it appeared. It was, in fact, cover for the entrance to a secret arms depot. Here M-16’s, and flame-throwers replaced the sniper’s rifles. The two executives were also given M-16’s. Black and Cassedy were equipped with night vision goggles; the other did not need them “What is all of this artillery for?” asked Black.

“We’ve got rough road ahead - Vivance Technology territory” replied one of the FS-26’s.

“What!” He’d heard of Vivance Technologies before; he’d heard rumors that their bio-weapons were equal to or surpassing their own. “Why don’t we just fly around the territory?”

“Oh,” Cassedy exclaimed, “you’ve not been given mission objectives?”

“No, why?” Black asked, raising one brow in suspicion.

“Because this is part of our mission” he replied, “ I mean to infiltrate VT’s Central American facility. And then we proceed to the Amazon.” Then he started to walk to the exit of the depot and motioned Black to his side. Before departing they went to a room where a military officer instructed them to shed their clothing, they did. Fatigues and body armor replaced their suits, now they all resembled military troops.

When they emerged from the hut he found that their jeeps were being fitted up with titanium armor and swiveling 16mm cannons, so that they now resembled four-wheeled tanks instead of jeeps. Cassedy signaled Black to a jeep and jumped in one of his own. Thomas leapt into the now snug cockpit of the jeep and found that a sniper also occupied it. He now appreciated why Nicrotex required military training on their applications.

Then again they were off again. Into the lush green of the tropics went the line of proud, powerful looking vehicles. The sun, a flaming orb, sank, smoldering into the mists of the forest.

Three hours later the caravan halted to make camp. The jeeps were aligned in a defensive circle around the site (each cannon manned by a sniper). Laser security alarms were also placed on the outside perimeter. FS-26’s stationed themselves in trees and in shallow pits (an FS-26 doesn’t require more than 3 minutes of sleep per day) and planned to keep watch all night. In less than ten minutes an empty clearing had been made into an impenetrable fortress. Black, exhausted from hours of difficult driving, fell asleep almost before zipping the tent flap behind him.

At approximately three AM, Black was awakened by the light and hiss of a flame-thrower spray accompanied by several M-16 shots. He expertly grabbed up his gun and cautiously unzipped his tent. The FS-26’s were all back at base. Large hulking figures were attacking them, tearing them apart with their huge claws, for they had no other visible weapons. Seeing a break in the carnage Black crawled out into the camp. He leapt to his feet and shot at one of the intruders. Unloading a whole clip into the thing he then sprinted to Cassedy’s tent. He was huddled up inside his sleeping bag; Black reached in and yanked a cringing Cassedy from his tent.

“What do you want to do?” Black yelled over the screams. Upon hearing this Cassedy jumped to his feet and resumed his calm, cool demeanor.

“Get two snipers and order them to two jeeps; then I’ll drive one and you’ll drive the other. They will man the cannons for cover. The others are… expendable-” His sentence was cut off by the screech of a ground attack planes. Two jeeps exploded shortly thereafter. Dodging constant machine gun strafes and huge monsters, Black summoned the two snipers and they were off, into the darkness. Some of the beasts attempted to pursue but they were quickly discouraged by explosive 30mm shells; leaving only a twelve-foot crater in testimony.

Seeing the departing vehicles, a ground attack plane broke its circling and also made for pursuit. When this occurred, Black was made aware of yet another bit of weaponry. The FS-26’s rotated toward the plane and unleashed a spray of anti-aircraft artillery from a second barrel onto it. He assumed that the bullets had explosive tips, because with just one rapid-fire burst the highly armored airplane went down. Flaming brilliantly it crashed into canopy and exploded sending a fifty-foot wall of flame stabbing into the thick tropical eve.

With no visible sign of pursuit the continued on at their intense speed. Cassedy pulled up next to Black and signaled him to turn off road and sped forward in the lead. After one more hour of off- road Cassedy stopped and Black did the same.

Cassedy walked over to the other jeep and whispered “We’re about ten minutes away from our target objective; look under your seat, you should find a small cylindrical projectile.” He reached under his seat and found the object. “This,” Cassedy continued, “ is a small state of the art nuclear bomb.” What? I’ve been trucking off-road sitting on a nuke? Black thought with anger.

“It has enough power to level 3 square miles. It fits in your jeep’s rear cannon; it can be loaded and shot just like a regular shell. We’ll go three miles south west of here, this should bring us up onto a high bluff about four hundred feet above the Vivance Tech’ complex. From here we’ll simultaneously fire on our target and the head due north to the pickup sight.”

They did exactly as plan dictated Black slowed the jeep behind Cassedy’s as they pulled up onto the high cliff. They turned off the engines. Getting out, and looking into the valley below, Tom saw nothing but jungle. “Where is it?” Black said, putting on his night vision goggles

“Right there,” Cassedy said, pointing to the untouched valley, “On your goggles, there should be a switch, hit it.” When he did, Tom saw in the infrared spectrum. He saw the jungle as a bluish color but in the center he saw the bright reds and yellows of heat.

“Those spots,” Cassedy said, “are their generators. Aim for them.”

Cassedy then jumped into the jeep and started punching keys at the small computer terminal on the dashboard. Tom moved to do the same. They programmed the trajectory of the warheads at sixty-six degrees. With a touch of a button the missiles were launched. Two white streaks were left arching across the sky. Before the warheads connected Cassedy exclaimed, “Take off your goggles NOW!”

Tom removed them just in time to see everything serene and peaceful for seconds, then to see a bright white explosion, like a miniature super nova engulf the entire valley, right up to the base of the cliff they were on. It was the most beautiful thing Tom had ever seen. The two jeeps were speeding through the jungle again before the light had faded.

The two arrived at the sight to find it empty. They carelessly drove into the clearing, and into a trap. From all around the same type attackers as had besieged their camp earlier emerged from the shadow. The snipers found that the anti-aircraft turrets were very effective against the onslaught of furry soldiers. Now, in the spotlight of the jeep Black saw, for the first time, his foe. Giant dogs? He thought. But he had no time to wonder; he was to busy shooting whatever they were down. Their jet, a corporate harrier, arrived shortly, and under the fire cover provided by the craft’s personnel, they boarded.

“You’re late!”

“You were early,” said one of the guards on the plane. And then they were safe in the air once again.

Clear morning light streamed through the windows of the modern looking Vivance Technologies build. The structure was complex and modern looking, but at the same time seemed to be in balance with the flora and fauna in and around it. Many atriums filled the sprawling three-story building. It was not as angular as most buildings, no, the VT complex a mixture of nature and technology. Geodesic domes were surrounded both indoors and out with large, shady spruce trees. The structure seemingly melted in and out of the forest. Small streams flowed down to a miniature lake, weaving in and out of the domes and offices on their way.

Workers here were pleasant looking and relaxed. Except for one, Benjamin Garris. Awe-struck by the beauty of the building, and new at VT, he was amazed by almost everything. Coming from smog-choked Los Angeles Garris instantly fell in love with the peace and tranquility of his new work place.

“Mr. Garris?” said an unfamiliar voice from behind him.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, gesturing to himself.

“Would you please follow me?

Garris looked at the man that strode in front of him. He was a dark-skinned man, Native American, probably about twenty-five, and muscularly built. This man looked some how out of place in a tailored suit and dress shoes, there was something wild about him. He disregarded the feeling and followed the man to a large conference room at the end of a long, bright hall.

His guide opened the door and he entered. Garris found himself in a room full of suited men and women sitting around a long rectangular table. He sat in the seat provided and listened as the conversation sparked again. So involved in this discussion were inhabitants of the room, that they failed to introduce themselves.

“We have to do something about Nicrotex,” said a man on the left.

“Yes, I know,” said the woman at the head of the table, “our weapons department is working on some new models at this moment.”

“Can’t the production be moved any quicker?” inquired another man at the table.

“You know that’s impossible,” said a Polynesian woman further down the table, “The process cannot be rushed’.

“Why not?” demanded the man.

“Because-”

“Enough!” the woman at the head of the table cut off the response of the Polynesian, “I’ve so rudely forgotten to introduce our newest employee, Mr. Benjamin Garris.” She stood up and began to walk around the table. “This is Kevin Night, our stealth technology developer,” she said as she stood behind a tall, thin, dark-skinned man. “Next is Flora Jin, the weapons development representative,” patting the small-framed Polynesian woman on the shoulder. She moved to the next seat, a small Hispanic looking fellow, “ This is our funds manager, Hugo Santiago. Next is George Hessa, a Catholic missionary and the best English-speaking guide to the Brazilian rainforest. He translates Portuguese, and Mr. Santiago helps us communicate with the Spanish-speaking peoples we may encounter in our business.” moving on she continues, “and this is Ramon Swift, our head Naturalist,” motioning to the Native American that had escorted him to the conference room. With that she returned to her seat, just to immediately spring up again and out stretch a hand to Garris, “I am Lessa Frost, Chief Executive Officer of Vivance Technologies.”

“Pleased to meet you all.”

After the brief introductions, Ms. Frost returned to business, “Your first assignment Mr. Garris is to go to the amazon VT base. Your knowledge of Nicrotex will be of great use to the Intel department of the base. Your skill as a pilot will also be required. You, Mr. Swift, and Mr. Hessa will leave for our corporate airfield in this facility tomorrow at two AM.” She again stood and addressed them all in closing, “Thank you all for coming.” All of Garris’s new co-workers stood as well and began to file out of the large, polished twin doors. Garris passed through the large oak doors and waited for Ms. Frost outside the conference room.

“Ms. Frost, in your request that I become employed with your company, you asked me a lot about myself and my skills, but I never received any type of literature on what Vivance does. What is ‘our business’?”

“We are a production company specializing in the fields of biological research equipment, stealth and armor technologies, and modern pharmaceuticals. We, Mr. Garris, are in the business of saving lives,” Ms. Frost said proudly.

“What about Ms. Jin? Where do we produce weapons? And in What capacity?”

“Ms. Jin is head of our newly formed aeronautics division. Originally this branch of our company was formed to make freight planes to airlift provisions to soldiers in the field, famine victims, and other people in need of food or supplies. But do to the recent aggression of the Nicrotex Corporation in the amazon, we have been forced to modify our aircraft facilities so that we can make bombers and fighters.”

“But I thought we are ‘in the business of saving lives’? Why make weapons?” Garris inquired nervously.

“I realize your concerns, Mr. Garris, but allow me to continue. VT has bought up many acres of the rainforest in South America. We have a vested interest in both preserving the jungle, and uncovering its medicinal secrets. Our pharmaceutical division has researched and discovered many of the “miracle drugs” of tomorrow in our research facilities near Manaus, Brazil. Until recently we have made progress, quietly, in our state-of-the-art facilities, but a few weeks ago the Nicrotex Corporation has begun to compete for Amazonian space. They use whatever force deemed necessary by the President of the company, which usually involves a military assault on one of our locations. Subsequently, the need has arrived to take countermeasures to ensure the future of our projects in the rainforest.”

“Thanks, for the explanation,” Garris said.

“Any time,” She said, already with a tone of familiarity in her voice, “And one more thing, pack lightly, VT will supply you with the proper clothes, food, and toiletries. Just bring a few items you think you may need.”

“OK, Ms. Frost, thanks for the advice,” he said, already walking down the bright corridor.

Garris rolled over to silence the insistent cry of his alarm clock. “One O’clock,” he muttered as he sat up. Remembering the instructions of Lessa Frost he removes only two of his most comfortable t-shirts and a pair of shorts from his dresser. These he packed into a small, earthy green-colored hiking pack. He also decided to take his large survival knife, I knew this would come in handy some day, he thought as he fingered the blade. The knife was large and sharp. It was not a folding knife. It was long and machete-like, with all of the smaller survival gear, like matches and fishing hooks, stowed in the handle. He was about to put the knife into his pack, but thought better of it and attached the sheath to his belt. Just in case, he finished packing by adding a first aid and a canteen.

“Well, if this isn’t light packing, I don’t know what is,” he said looking at the miniscule bag he had filled.

He then proceeded to get dressed. He donned an outfit identical to the one that he had packed in his backpack, a white T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. Then he picked up his sunglasses, put them in his side pocket, found his car keys, and left the apartment, locking the door on the way out. He energetically jumped into his black luxury sedan and headed for the Vivance Tech complex.

The jet landed in what appeared to be a huge clear-cut area of the forest. For approximately one mile on all sides the land had been laid waste. The soil was red and dusty. With the exception of the scorched tree stumps, one may have mistaken this place for the surface of Mars.

The harrier landed in a cloud of red dust right by a pile of charred tree trunks. Black and Cassedy jumped out and the plane took off. Cassedy turned and started for the waste pile. He signaled Tom to follow. Together the climbed the stack of lumber (although Black had no idea why). When the reached the highest point Cassedy removed a piece of bark from the opening of a hole and jumped in. Tom edged in closer to the opening and looked down to find Cassedy descending a ladder. He followed.

At the bottom was a trap door. The two men turned the large wheel at the top and swung the door open. Electric bulbs, to Black's amazement, lighted the cement tunnel below. They continued down until they reached the bottom of this ladder. Here they found a steel door that slid open with a flash of Cassedy's ID card. Inside was a bustle of white lab coats and futuristic weapons assembly.

"This is our main weapons lab," Cassedy said, "Spanning nine acres under ground, this facility is state-of-the-art."

"Jesus Don, you sound like a tour-guide," playfully shoving Cassedy out of the way a small woman with straight, red hair and flaring green eyes in a lab coat introduced herself, "Hi, I'm Deirdre MacPherson"

"Thomas Black," he replied formally. He found her attractive, although not stunningly so. He immediately felt guilty for looking at her. Even though his wife had died nearly five years earlier he was still hit by that pang of sorrow whenever he felt attracted to another.

"Tom? Tom?… TOM!!" Cassedy shouted to penetrate Tom's reverie.

"Huh?" he replied with a start. Deirdre smirked and looked wryly at Tom. He blushed, She thinks I'm looking at her!

"I was trying to explain where you are," Cassedy continued, "Anyway, did you ever wonder where all of our immense funding came from?"

"No, I'd always assumed that we made our profit from our pesticide production," Tom replied expertly.

"That was just the beginning," Cassedy explained, "the founders had bigger plans, much bigger. Now we manufacture the latest in all weaponry. Every offensive weapon made after 1990 was manufactured by Nicrotex or it subsidiaries. The founders hold the controlling majority of the stock of every major offensive weapons maker in the world. Every Smith & Wesson to every nuclear bomb has at least some Nicrotex parts. The founders allowed all of the companies it bought out to keep their names and employees, the only things to change were the technology and where the majority of the sales profit go."

"Whoa!" Tom uttered; he had no idea how large his employers actually were.

"Walk this way," Deirdre said with a wave of her hand.

"This," Cassedy went on, "is our energy weapons assembly plant. This assembly line stretches half a mile, on it we start with raw materials such as platinum, diamond, and aluminum."

Tom struggled to take it all in. This is huge! Tom thought. He could barely make out the far end of the thin, ribbon-like conveyer belt. Tom had never seen anything like it, in reality. This is like a sci-fi movie or something.

"Over here," MacPherson said, pointing to a smaller conveyer belt to the side of its lager counterpart, "is where we make the computer chips and other electronic parts for our weaponry."

"So this plant is completely dedicated to the production of 'energy weapons'?" Black inquired.

"Yes," MacPherson and Cassedy stated simultaneously.

"By 'energy weapons' I assume you mean Star-Trek type phasers and the like?"

"Basically," said Cassedy, "but much more lethal. There is no 'set to stun' with these guns." Cassedy said stepping onto a small, golf cart-like shuttle. Tom and Deirdre followed. As the shuttled sped down the paved floor towards the far end of the assembly line Tom watched in amazement, the transformation of raw ore and minerals into finished weapons.

Several minutes later, the shuttled slowed to a stop. Here, workers carefully loaded finished, complex looking guns.

"These," Cassedy said, hefting one of the weapons out of the hands of a loader, "are the EPS-9X production models. EPS stands for Energy Projectile System. These guns fire rapid fire plasma bursts, with indefinite range and zero percent error. If you aim correctly the energy ball travels at point-five the speed of light in a perfectly straight line to the target."

"The best part is," Deirdre said as she snatched the gun from Cassedy, "its multi-purpose." As she said this, a grin spread slyly across here face. Without explaining she began walking towards a steel door.

"Hmm," Cassedy inquired, "You and your team have made some new modifications in the production model?"

"You'll see," she said, motioning to a rack of binoculars, "each of you take a pair of these and follow me."

Cassedy looked at Black, shrugged, and motioned for him to follow Deirdre. Black wondered what demonstration she had in mind.

After ascending a long, twisting staircase the trio emerged into the harsh light of noon in the Amazon, this time from an entrance hidden in a jagged gathering of rock. Black squinted against the glare in an attempt to see what Deirdre was planning to do. She looked at her watch, then to the sky; she was obviously waiting for something.

Black looked around and realized that he was in the same clear-cut area that they arrived in when he saw the log pile that he and Cassedy had descended into before. He turned to look behind him as saw that he was at the edge of the dense, lush jungle. Peering into the shadows, Black thought he sensed movement, but he couldn't discern anything in particular. Probably some kind of animal, he thought as he turned back around.

He listened as Cassedy leaned over and whispered to Deirdre, "What, exactly, are we waiting-" His whisper was drowned out by the sound of approaching planes.

"THIS IS WHAT WE'RE WAITING FOR!" Deirdre yelled over the roar, "WATCH THIS!" She raised the barrel of the weapon to the horizon, and no sooner had the first attack plane come into view it was destroyed. So complete was the damage that there was no piece of shrapnel or wreckage bigger than the size of a Frisbee.

The second and third planes met the same the same fate at the wrong end of Deirdre's weapon. After this demonstration there was a moment of silence. She used this silence to send for two more EPS's, with which to arm Black and Cassedy, by radio.

Two lab technicians arrived with the weapons just in time for the three to greet the onslaught of ground troops pouring from the jungle.

"WHAT?!" Black screamed diving into the rock pile, along with Deirdre and Cassedy, for cover, "Three of us versus an a small army of trained soldiers?"

The first wave was instantly cut down by the by Cassedy's first shots. "Wow, these are the best yet! Where did you brains come up with this?"

"Years of scientific research, and the best technology in the world!" Deirdre screamed merrily over the gunfire.

The onslaught of troops immediately stopped. They were probably frightened by the fate met by their teammates. Black crouched behind the rock pile breathing heavily, Cassedy seemed very impressed and excited. Not so confident when the odds are even, Black thought, recalling the night before with Cassedy quivering in his tent. And Deirdre seemed absolutely elated by her new toy.

With a break in the action Deirdre asked, " So, do you like 'em?"

"Yeah," Cassedy stated, "I feel like a one man army."

"And you Tom?" she inquired, looking at Black.

"I-I haven't gotten to try mine," he said, distracted by the horror of the battle field; there were easily the destroyed bodies of fifty men strewn about, burned and steaming.

"Well you'll have your chance-" Cassedy was cut off by the zing of a sniper bullet passing millimeters from his ear.

"Now, you can have your chance now." Deirdre said, "look into the scope, flip the switch at the base of the barrel, and pull the bolt on the top of the handle back."

Black did as he was instructed, "the scope zoomed about a hundred times normal vision, it flipped into some kind of infrared, and he heard a metallic click as he pulled the bolt back.

"What that just did," Deirdre said, "was switch you into sniper mode: high power zoom, day/night infrared temperature-differentiation spectrum, and single-shot, long-range projectiles. Try it!"

Black, not wanting to look weak (or get shot) did as he was told. He propped the

Gun in a cleft in the rock and looked into the jungle through his sight. He spotted six snipers, all positioned high in the trees on the edge of the clearing. He took aim at one of them and pulled the trigger, he didn't feel any kickback at all, but the gunman fell from his post. All Black heard was a tiny whine, it reminded him of the sound a camera flash makes when recharging. When the whine reached its highest tone, about twenty seconds later, a small light blinked in the heads-up display within the scope on the gun. He centered in on another sniper and repeated his precision shot, ending yet another person's life. Four more times he repeated this action, and four more snipers went down, that was the end of the demo.

Deirdre radioed the Nicrotex base, asking for the "cleanup crew." Seconds later three massive cargo planes flew over the trio's heads and dump barrels of liquid onto the forest where the opposition was hiding. Then a single fighter launched five air to ground fire bombs. The whole front went up in flames as the bombs ignited the flammable liquid.

"Ok, we're done. Are you two impressed?" Deirdre asked with a pleasantness in her voice that Black found maniacal, considering what they had just done.

"Oh yeah!" Cassedy exclaimed, "When do I get to take one home?"

"The release date hasn't been decided, but you'll be the first to get a hold of one Don. OK, let's go back downstairs, you both can clean up a little and relax until your transport gets here."

Cassedy opened the heavy metal door chivalrously and motioned for Deirdre to enter.

"Are you coming Tom?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

Cassedy and Deirdre disappeared down cavernous stairwell. Thomas leaned against the rock and sighed. He looked at the ground for a moment, then he vomited. After a few minutes he went down the stairs and shut the door behind him.

Garris slapped unsuccessfully at the throng of mosquitoes voraciously attacking the back of his neck. His efforts had little affect on the mosquitoes, though it did make the canoe tilt unsteadily to one side. The thought of plunging into the murky Amazonian water alarmed him greatly, this anxiousness only provided for more extreme and jerky movements.

“Calm down,” said the small tribesman that behind him in an unalarmed manner.

“The piranhas only nibble until you bleed,” the similar, yet distinctively taller, native that sat in front of him added chipperly, “it's the blood that attracts the crocodiles. And THEY eat you!”

“Uh, thanks,” Garris replied, his knuckles growing ever more white gripping the sides of the canoe.

“Ben, I see you have made friends with Dacau and Ekla,” Ramon said from another of the slender boats, nodding to the two respectively as he said their names, “They're quite the jokesters. Incase you are wondering why they speak English so well, let me explain the Vivance Tech 'Forestry Development Project.' The project came about in the 1980's when Vivance, then Delamar Pharmaceuticals, began speculating the Amazon as a potential source of raw materials for their drug production.

The board of directors all came down here to see what exactly they were thinking about buying. They liked what they saw, and agreed to buy huge tracks of land from the Brazilian government.

Progress was slow at first, because the field-chemists had to hand select and painstakingly test each and every new plant they encountered to discover if it had any medicinal value.

One such chemist was Jonathan Roan. He grew tired of unsuccessfully trying every plant to isolate any one variable of millions; he saw the whole process as a waste of millions of dollars and thousands of hours. In a logical pursuit, Roan looked to the ancient tribes of the Amazon hoping to tap their oral libraries as a source of knowledge in medicinal botany.

His efforts did raise production, though bilingual tribal guides were few, and the ones they did find were lacking in either their knowledge of English or their ability to communicate with the natives. After a few fatal attempts at following badly translated formulas, Roan petitioned to the company for some sort of improvement in the selection of guides.

Gregory Downs, a company executive brought a novel idea to the table: what if Delamar could train their own Amazonian guides. He suggested that the company send in 'scouts' to observe some of the tribal children. Then, based on the scout's suggestions, the company selects a few individuals and grants them the opportunity to be schooled in the US.

The child's whole family came with, so the child did not forget his native language and culture. The child attended school until he was fluent in English then, he and his family, returned to the jungle to act as guides and ambassadors to the Delamar employees stationed here. And that is the system by which Dacau and Ekla became fluent in our language.”

“Very clever,” Ekla offered.

“Indeed,” Garris replied simply. He now knew one of Swift's most chief virtues: his incredible charisma in weaving a tale.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Garris inquired, “We've been in these boats for hours”

“What, you aren't enjoying the landscape? The Amazon is one of the most lush and beautiful places Earth has to offer,” Swift said, standing up, “Oh well, anyways we are here”

Garris looked about and didn't see anything different among the mangroves that line the banks. The tribesmen steered the boats toward the trees, Garris wondered what they were up to.

Just as it looked like the boat was going to become entangled in the tree roots, it found its invisible entrance. The Canopy at water level parted and immediately he saw a narrow, but clear, path of water through the roots. Almost no direct sunlight reached the water here, because of this, there was a noticeable change in mid-afternoon temperature from the open river. Garris enjoyed the dim, cool, and serene atmosphere of this floating jungle.

“Dammit!” he said as he discovered the one shortcoming of this haven, “the bugs are even worse here! They're going to eat me alive!”

“Here, use this,” Dacau suggested, handing Garris a leave that smelled vaguely of camphor, “The insects do not like you if they think you are a leaf.”

Garris studied the leaf incredulously, but his inspection was interrupted by another insect squadron dive-bombing his head, he rubbed the oily leave all over his exposed skin. To his surprise, it worked!

Ekla and Dacau maneuvered deftly among the tangle of branches, navigating the sinuous path with the precision that came with traveling it on a regular basis. Garris watched the mangroves and their inhabitants: various monkeys, aquatic lizards, caiman, snakes, and those bugs! He dipped his hand into the cool water and sat, mesmerized, watching the trail is left in the glassy surface.

Garris was jolted from his reverie as the boat gently came aground, startled, he looked around. The landing was little wider than the path that led to it, and just as well concealed. He looked down what should have been the shoreline, but it was unrecognizable as such. The mangroves melted into one another in such a way that if a casual observer (if a casual observer could possibly get there) that he would not be able to tell you where the land started and water ended if you gave him all day.

“Come on Garris, this is where you earn your pay. Help unload the three crates from the canoes, and put them over here,” Swift said, playfully sarcastic, motioning from the boats to an area ten feet from the water. Garris did as he was instructed and helped move the containers to the indicated location. He discovered that the area was actually a small clearing, surrounded by an almost solid wall of greenery. Just as Garris was returning for the next crate, he felt a drop of rain on his shoulder. The drop was quickly followed by its friends, creating a soft pitter-patter, which quickly rose to a deafening roar.

He quickly unloaded the last box, and ran up to Swift yelling to overcome the rumble of the torrent, “WHAT DO WE DO NOW?!”

“Watch,” Swift said unperturbedly, as he, Dacau, Ekla and another of the natives went back down to the waters edge. In pairs, they grabbed the canoes and walked across the clearing to the trees on the opposite side. Swift turned and smiled mysteriously at Garris, who was already running over to investigate.

“What are you doing with those?”

Swift simply pointed to two huge, ancient trees. These trees, Garris noticed, each had a pair of strange notches carved into them. Swift and the tribesman carrying the canoe with him turned the canoe over, hefted it onto their shoulders, and slid it into the corresponding notches about six feet up on each tree. It fit perfectly! Dacau and Ekla did the same. The team now had a perfectly dry rain shelter.

“BEN!” Swift shouted, “GET ME THE SMALLEST BROWN CRATE!”

Garris did as he was told and brought the box to Swift. He opened it and distributed what looked to Garris as a bundle of soft rope. Garris watched as the five men around him stood under the canoes and unrolled the bundles, they were hammocks. He followed suit in putting them up on hooks strategically placed on the canoe and the trees. It became obvious to him that the canoes were designed with this dual use in mind.

In all the commotion with the rain Garris had not noticed the setting sun and his growing hunger, but once things had calmed down he asked, “Do we have any food?”

“Do we have any food?” Ekla imitated sarcastically, pretending to be insulted by his ignorance, “Of course we have food.”

“Sorry though, tonight we eat only what we brought with: cold jerky, some bread, and water,” Dacau added, removing these items from another crate he brought under the shelter. He passed the food around and everyone broke off what they wanted, for there was more than enough to go around. The meat was good, but the bread was stale; either way Garris it filled up. That was all he really wanted anyways, just something to fill up. When the were finished, Dacau packed everything back in the box, fastened it, and put it on top of the canoes and out of reach of any clever scavengers.

With a full stomach and a travel-weary body, Garris passed seamlessly into a deep and restful sleep. The gentle swing of the hammock made even the roar of the Amazonian downpour nothing more than a lullaby. This was the kind of sleep a traveler always slept his fist night in a place, a saturating peace that follows the wanderer wherever he may go.