Break time.

"The thing about questions is they need answers," Jessica mused. "Unless you're like Adam, equations need solving and encryptions need breaking." The apple in her hand, she took a bite and savored the juice. Man is the retarded scrivener grasping at recollections of perfection. "You only need one off-note to bring down the symphony. So, imagine how the story would change if God was the Snake and the Devil made Eden."

Her black hair fluttered in the wind as she leaned on the edge of an inner-city roof, a delivery box at her feet. The eyes of the Lynx swept unadulterated sky and fell on the skyscraper directly across, the word Goliath specular and bright. She thus descended the building steadily and checked both sides of the street before crossing.

Within the megastructure, she found an immaculate white lounge. A crescent counter controlled the rear wall, where staff sat glued to their terminals' contoured light. Everywhere else propaganda decorations: a loop of advertisements, AEF posters, and silent holograms broadcasted human-alien homogeny. And of course, the symbol of Goliath was emblazoned on the mysterious leviathan of a spaceship that nobody recognized. It lived within a great green banner, the first thing people saw upon entry.

Two Koi ponds paralleled the main walkway, while a third split the walkway into two lanes. Aside from questioning the decision behind three Koi ponds, Jessica ran through several scenarios in her head, enumerating the variables for what came next. "But Doc." The moment it folded, she kicked the gravity board into her arm, readied her carrier, and casually stepped to.

From the middle of the terminal nexus, a female Azarean noted the reverberation of footsteps, perhaps because there was no line and the lobby was near empty. Her perfectly combed blue hair accompanied a porcelain face, with lips a mild violet in hue. Her sunny irises reflected the room when Jessica landed a hand on the counter.

"Greetings," the Azarean started. "How may I assist you, this afternoon?"

"I've got a delivery for..." —checking the bright letters on the insulator— "Azeem?"

A suspicious grin crossed her pale face. "I see. You shall have to wait a moment while I confirm."

"This again?" Jessica snarled, and read the glowing nametag. "Megyn."

"It's Me-giine. Please, wait a moment."

Humming, Jessica checked her wrist while the Azarean clerk typed. 12:12.

"Hmm. The order was placed at 11:52," said the woman. "You're right on time."

Jessica smirked. "It's okay, I forgive you."

"Peculiar. I did not figure Azeem for a consumer of tacos."

"Well, Me-giine, he probably picked up the taste from Cheng after I delivered last Monday at 11:37... Same branch, no?"

The clerk breath through her thin nostrils. "Indeed. That would make sense. Gratitude for waiting. I suppose you know your way."

"To Computer Software, yeah?"

Curving stairs left and right led to the elevators. Jessica frivolously sauntered right, the carrier in hand.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. "Sixty seconds." She watched as the highlighted numbers switched overhead: 5, 6, 7. 

Early on in life, she realized that anxiety was a waste of a heart's beat. No matter the equation, being anxious was like discomfort sprinkled on a destiny sundae.

Ding. The doors opened to white terminals, white outfits, and ample amounts of repressed creativity consigned to one room. One quick survey showcased the silicon rows, the doors, the people, and the memo board. Everything. The secrets had to lurk elsewhere.

What is a corporate headquarters if not a phallic Pandora's Box?

Then she saw him, David, in his distinct green coat and hat, the figure who cross-checked every employee's tablet and terminal. The room's lack of hustle was refreshing in a business setting. It could work in her favor. In search of a practical candidate, she selected the employee who reminded her of a young Mark Hamill. 

"Hello," she said, holding her white smile. The young engineer peered up from his terminal, let the rose-colored cheeks pin him. "Sorry to bother. You happen to know where I can find David Morner?"

"Yes!" he said courteously, swiveling in his chair. 

"Could you—" She gasped, having spilled a nearby mug with her butt. 

The employee jerked from the drip of hot coffee.

"I'm so sorry!" Jessica reset the mug, the poor worker squealed, and the entire room cast its attention on both of them. In two seconds, she captured a mental snapshot as they turned their heads, before returning to the poor engineer. "I am so sorry. If only you had a spill-proof cup!"

"If only!" he whined.

"Here. Why don't you take these on the house?" She removed a box from its carrier, and the employee stared in disbelief.

"Really?"

"Of course! It's the least I can do for being such a klutz! I feel so stupid."

"Wow. Well, okay," he said, accepting the box and setting it down. "I think I have to get a spare. Excuse me!" The young engineer hastily left her alone at the terminal.

Instead of leaving, Jessica resorted to cleaning the spilled coffee, during which she snuck a brief glimpse of the terminal screen. Without hesitation, she inconspicuously inserted a USB, from there wiped down the desk with one hand and covertly scrolled with the other.

She needed two things: One: to find Procel and Helios; two: to get David's digital signature. So she dallied. Head bent, eyes below the brim, she focused her photographic gaze on an employee at the farthest terminal.

Back to her watch. At exactly 12:15:00, user Lynx sent two automated messages to Procel and Helios on Ghost Wire. At 12:15:00, only one employee ignored the coffee spill bitch fit, according to her memory. Looking up again, she saw David busy at someone else's terminal. The director and his lackey focused on one screen, and she could practically read his lips as he gave instructions.

Her watch contained a new message from Procel: 'Is there really no way around Salts?' Of course, there is a way around Salts, but I'm not gonna get into it. David and Procel were one and the same. If not, it was just an extreme coincidence that David had mouthed the same message. There could have been any number of reasons why David had contacted her under an alias, but the other username, Helios, remained a mystery.

"Oh, hello!" Hamill's impersonator had returned with a spare jumpsuit. "Thanks again," he said, "but you wanted to speak to the director."

Jessica's fingers snuck along her back and plucked the USB. "No, I wanted to speak to David Mourner!" she replied with a smile.

"Yes, that's our director."

"Well, gosh! Of course, that's what you meant!" Excitedly, she reached around for her backpack and pulled out her Vit. After inserting the USB, it displayed the Tacquizza page. "He showed up in our RNG database and is eligible to win a month's worth of free pizza and tacos."

"No way."

"Yes, buey."

"I'll go get him." The employee took off, but not before stealing a taco.

Ding! Malvis stepped out of the elevator, rigid in his long boots and white-collared coat, eyes invisible behind the lens. He was flanked by two humans in black, green Spearhead insignia stitched over their shoulders, literally the tip of a spear. 

Something about the alien made Jessica's spine crawl. The Azarean nonchalantly walked past her, at first. His feet ground to a halt after a few seconds, and his head twisted like a rusty gear. Despite this, she kept her cool.

"Employee!" Malvis beckoned, startling a short man with eye-glasses. "What is your name?"

The engineer fumbled, coughed, and gargled, "Azeem!"

"Azeem! Is it  customary to let non-personnel wander this floor?"

Azeem looked to where Malvis gestured and saw Jessica's colorful figure by the terminal. "Umm..."

"Just sustenance delivery," said Jessica. "Cuz you know, I'm standing right here..."

Malvis turned his mysterious expression to Jessica, with a stoic aura that nearly knocked her down. As she stared, he stared right back, presumably. "What is your affiliation?" he said to her.

Jessica rolled her eyes, certain the name Tacquizza was spelled on her hat. To be 110% sure, she checked. Her gaze then found Azeem. "Thank you for ordering from Tacquizza, where your satisfaction is our satisfaction!"

"What's going on?" Hamill's impersonator appeared between Azeem and Malvis, a befuddled David not far behind. His question had been somewhat garbled by the sound of meat and tortilla in his mouth. "Taco?" he asked Azeem.

"I love tacos," Azeem said.

The alien ended his death stare when he turned around and met David, who winced. Jess had spoken with him several times, under the guise of Lynx, so felt odd but not surprised when he did not recognize her.

"Please, see that she finds the exit," Malvis softly commanded. The Spearhead security guard nodded and pointed Jessica to the elevator, making her writhe with inner disappointment. Without a choice, she begrudgingly gathered her belongings and made her way to the platform. The Azarean's ominous stride, nevertheless, accompanied her from behind.

She hadn't finished what she came here to do. Anxious, relentless, Jessica thought on her feet and boldly turned to make Malvis stop in his tracks. "Almost forgot!" she started. "I need my evaluation done." She reached behind and retrieved her Vit from her backpack. "It'd really help me out if someone like you filled out this questionnaire. It's super-duper quick."

"You have not provided me with any service," Malvis said robotically.

"I served your corporation." Jessica's smile, it was as fake as it was wide. "And when we get right down to it, aren't corporations people, too?" Though she could not read the space elf's face, his silence ticked like a clock.

Examining every inch of the Tacquizza girl, Malvis mechanically gripped the Vit. He swiftly swiped left, again and again,  then returned the device. The lens on his face never even changed direction.

"Fantastic!" said Jessica, scrolling through failing grade after failing grade.

Malvis looked at the guard. "See that she finds the exit."

Goggles on. "Capture," she whispered as Malvis pulled up his holo-brace. A bead of sweat rubbed her temple as soon the elevator doors shut.  Within her employee evaluation sheet, she found the signature. Malvis it read; he was a variable with a creepy disposition.  And the moment his white figure disappeared behind the double door, a beep resounded from her watch. It was a message from Helios. 

"What?" she stammered under her breath. 

The security guard quizzically eyed her, but only saw her pale grin and gleaming eye. He loomed after the elevator and all the way down the stairs, to watch her exit Goliath HQ.

A mix of whiplash and relief followed Jessica outside. How the hell do actors do it? She ogled the USB in her hand—thought of Ghost Wire, David, Helios, and hit a wall of questions. There was data to examine, but she also needed to reflect. Her gaze wandered across the urban expanse of New Sumer, breathing in, pondering the future beyond its highways and pedestrians.

"McFly." First Tacquizza, then some remote research at home. "Maybe I'll visit Beth again," she said aloofly, right before red light showered the street. Another city-wide broadcast. Thus, Jessica patiently rolled her eyes alongside several pedestrians, waiting, but the message never came. Holograms commandeered the scene as every board across the city flickered. Everyone seemed equally befuddled at, what looked like, an avenue of haywire devices.

"Weird..."

The city's cyberspace had hit a snag, apparently. The people stared in awe while traffic slowed to a crawl, murmured as every hologram digitized into unreadable pixels. Airborne vehicles descended into the cityscape, making use of the emergency landing stations. A symphony of sirens sounded for the reception of airborne cars, which made Jessica's head spin. 

"What is this?" 

Finally, the labyrinth of bright neon stabilized into a uniform image across all buildings and sidewalks. Traffic had stopped, citizens looked up, to and around every corner.

"Citizens of the deceitful sovereign!" The voiced resonated clearer than the feed, at first. After the bombardment of an echo, a face materialized across every screen, a face with a skull tattoo. He had devilish black hair, pale eyes, and an accent that chillingly bounced back and forth. He stared directly at the camera, total blackness the backdrop. And because of an unstable connection, his movements glitched. One instant, his eyes met the camera; the next, he stared into the distance. "This is your equal speaking."

Someone had managed to hack the city's media infrastructure. The Terran News Network had been hijacked, which was never too simple a task. Nevertheless, there it was, a black hat staring at the masses. Nothing of the like had ever happened in New Sumer.

"Misguided family of the planet Earth," the broadcast continued, "we have, all of us, become fawning sheep under the will of the Xeno! The Azarean seeds, so-called Edens, are merely the precursor to cultural genocide."

A montage of footage accompanied the broadcast. The skits were generic, at first, freeze-frames of bustling locations across every continent. The stranger narrated every sequence as they transitioned from mobs to destroyed cities to ghost towns. But the defining piece came from a phone camera. Old footage. Very old. It recorded the backdrop of a small rural town and several Russian voices – Beyond that, no more clues until it zoomed to the sky.

A cascade of screams deafened New Sumer, drowned out by explosions, and there were many explosions. Despite its terrible shaking, the camera managed to focus on several aircraft bolting across the sky. Underneath them, the distant landscape succumbed to mega bursts of light, followed by clouds that billowed into the stratosphere. Sonic booms meanwhile overtook the audio like erratic thunder. Further adding to the chaos, jets smashed and shattered into the ground. People sprinted across the countryside, trapped by fiery rain. Inaudible dialogue persisted, the crowd under the phone frightened. As an unidentified flying object flew into close proximity, the camera distinguished its crescent shape as an Azarean ship. Suddenly, much to the disquiet of New Sumer, the footage died.

When all was said and done, after all the terror, Jessica couldn't shake a strange suspicion. Something about the situation did not feel real. Still, New Sumer's silence was more deafening than the last cry. Soon after, the man reappeared on the torrential feed. 

"We have invited the invader inside and made a home of their victory. But those of us in Sub Terra know their hidden histories, their lies, their cruel intentions, and shall fight the oppressor on every viable battleground. Earth will be free before it becomes a farm. And it begins with Edens, those towering deceits, fake shelters of betrayers." The orating rebel stepped back from the camera and looked down. "Clock is ticking."  

A countdown hit citywide, starting at 15:00... 

14:59... 

14:58...

Author's Note: Oh, crap.