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If you think you know somebody who resembles any of the characters here, congratulations, but you're wrong - any similarity between the characters in this story and any real person is purely coincidental, since all of these characters are figments of my imagination.

This is my story, not yours. Don't sell it or put it on a pay site. You can keep it and/or give it away with all of this information intact, but if you make money off of it without my permission, you're breaking the law and pissing me off.



Prototype Ten: Chapter 12 (no-sex)
(C)Copyright 2005 - Shakes Peer2B
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"It's taking too damned long!" Caprio fumed. Three years he had been the head of Earth government, and while the orbital pickets were getting better at intercepting the alien attackers, the aliens were still in the system, and still, occasionally, getting through the sphere of satellites and orbital fighters designed to protect against them. The social and infrastructure programs were gradually yielding results, as witness the increased availability of near earth combat vessels, but defending Earth, as the alien tormentors delighted in proving over and over again, was not enough. The aliens needed to be driven completely out of the system, not just held at bay around Earth.

Caprio's popularity numbers, in the nineties after the destruction of one of the alien vessels, had steadily declined. There was resentment among the nations of Earth at having to answer to a central government, and even more at being held accountable for their actions, but hard times call for harsh measures, and Caprio was determined to use the remainder of his five year term to see those nations working together at last.

"Who was that guy the Americans thought was helping them with the terrorists a few years back?" He asked his aide. "Prometheus, Promo...."

"Prototype Ten, sir." The aide said quietly. "Actually, there was a man and a woman and they called themselves 'Prototype Nine' and 'Prototype Ten.' It was rumored that they were the products of a secret US experiment that got out of hand."

"Yes, yes! Prototype Ten! Whatever happened to them?" Caprio asked impatiently. "I could use the help of a pair like that about now!"

"No one seems to know what happened to them, and that program, if it existed, is one of the ones the US exempted from disclosure when they joined the UE." The Aide said, checking his personal data terminal. "They just dropped out of sight one day and no one has seen or heard from them since."

"Do you suppose the US Government finally caught them?"

"Doubtful, sir." The aide replied, still consulting his PDT. "If they were capable of even a fraction of the things they were reported to have done, it would be virtually impossible for anyone to have caught them. If they did, it would have to have been such a large operation that some hint of it would have leaked, and there has been nothing. It is more likely that, since they were clearly the result of someone's experimentation, they were biologically unstable. If that was the case, they may have just crawled off into a corner somewhere and died."

"I knew it was too much to hope for." Caprio sighed. "Anyway, what are the figures this week?"

"Seven attacks that made it through the orbital pickets." The aide used his stylus to bring up another report on the PDT. "That's down from twenty three for the same period last year. As usual, all attacks were against military targets. Two were wounded and one is missing. No fatalities."

The aide knew what was coming next but hoped that this time the President would forget. He didn't. "And the missing person?"

"Captain Yvette Colbert, Sir." The aide replied. "One of the picket pilots."

"Was her ship destroyed?"

"No sir."

"Damaged?"

"No sir."

"Anyone see what happened?"

"Just like the others, sir. One moment she was there, the next, gone. Her ship wasn't engaged in any action with the enemy." The aide replied.

"God damn them!" Caprio cursed. "How many does that make, altogether?"

"Seven hundred eighty three since the attacks began, sir."

"What kind of sick, perverted game are these aliens playing with us?" The President asked, for perhaps the thousandth time. "Are they performing experiments on these people? Eating them? Breeding them like cattle? What?"

"There is evidence to suggest that each person is chosen for a particular reason, sir." The aide replied. "If you combine these disappearances with a number of disappearances that occurred some months before the alien ships appeared, you find that they might have kidnapped a rather broad set of skills and capabilities. Perhaps they are trying to understand our society, or reproduce it in some way."

"What do you mean about disappearances before the alien ships?"

"Well, sir," the aide cleared his throat nervously, "it's just a theory of mine, but it occurred to me that if I were an alien commander about to attack a new planet, I might want to know something about the beings on that planet, so I went back a couple of years, and found about two hundred isolated reports of mysterious disappearances from around the world. I won't pretend to understand the alien psyche, sir, but there does seem to be a pattern of sorts there."

"Have you told anyone else about this?" Caprio asked.

"Oh, no sir. I have no other evidence to support my theory, sir."

"That's just as well, then." The President replied. "How are we doing on the new fighters?"

"Well, sir," the aide once again consulted his PDT, "as you know, we've only gradually been able to piece together bits of the alien technology from fragments of destroyed craft and missiles, but our scientists finally think they understand how the drives work and have built a prototype. They should be able to test within a couple of days. That's holding up production for the moment because they're hoping to put the new drive in all future craft, and it will mean even more delays if they have to take out the rocket drives first. It's a gamble, but the consensus is that it's worth taking."

"Are their drives that much better?"

"Yes sir." The aide continued to scroll through the report on his hand held terminal. "It seems they operate off gravity, and as a result don't need a rocket boost to orbit. They can take off and land on Earth, the Moon, or a space station, and are much more energy efficient. In addition, they should give our fighters the same performance as the aliens, which should level the playing field a little."

"And they'll be armed with the beam weapons?"

"No matter what the drive, the beam weapons will replace every mass driver in the fleet within three months." The aide replied, working rapidly on the PDT as he walked with the President. "That will greatly reduce damage from 'friendly' fire and make sure that what we fire at the enemy won't come back to strike one of our craft in a few months as its orbit brings it back into Earth space."

"I don't suppose we've had any luck with that shield thing have we?"

"That one has our scientists puzzled." The aide replied. "They can't identify anything in any of the wreckage that even looks as though it could be part of such a system. It must be some sort of totally alien approach that we just can't recognize."


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