Ninety one - EARTH (DIVIDED)

The ground shook as the newly reinducted cyborgs marched past. Three had expired during the flight to Bajoti, six died while being transferred into their new bodies, and eighty nine were declared unfit for duty.

The rest turned in response to an order, formed a column of twos, and marched the length of runway 1G.

Marco held his salute as yet another Confederate flag drew abreast of the makeshift review stand and felt a variety of conflicting emotions.

It was good to see these veterans, to have their strength to call on, but sad nonetheless. How many of these same cyborgs would die cursing his name? Wishing he had left them buried in the past? There was no way to know.

A bugle sounded, a flight of six fighters roared overhead, and the troops marched on.

* * *

The safe house was buried in south Los Angeles. It belonged to a sympathizer who worked for the government. Water poured into the tub, and the bathroom filled with steam. It billowed, eased toward the