“I want to wipe them all out; every filthy last one of them. They might have entered our solar system, but as far as I am concerned, none of them will leave it… alive.” Raising his fist to the sky, Rory yells, “I’m coming for you bastards and you had better fear these humans… you had better be very, very afraid!”
Grabbing Rory’s shoulder, Rex looks to Rory, “I know you will make Sahara very proud. I know she is cheering you… us… on. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind. That attack today killed a lot of innocent people and we will fight for them too… every last man, women and child who lost their life today… we will fight for them and for the survival of those left behind… we will make those bastards regret their plans to colonize here on our turf… I promise you… I promise all of them.”
Rex puts the hammer down, flying the jet at its top speed; both engines succinctly roaring. The silver bird is now screaming thru the air on its way to deliver these two men to their destiny; to where the history of mankind will be written… written by them.
How could it be just an accident? How could these men, from different worlds be destined to be here, in this place and at this precise point in time to defend the Earth… to fight this menace… to fight against what could potentially be, as we know it, Earth’s final precipice of existence? Did some cosmic quirk occur; a wrinkle in the space-time continuum when Rex made the last turn of his wrench on that bolt to fix the broken actuator? Perhaps that unintended action somehow created a time stream neither man can now step out of nor can they escape from. The begging question is how history… the universe… or God, finds a way to have the right people, in the right place, at the right time when history needs them to be there? Could it be the universe leaves nothing to chance?
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish