Avery held the shivering, limp body of his sister close. It was as if she were not there at all, or as if Lucille's soul had abandoned her body to whatever fate and had fled. The tears that wracked her fell softly onto his hands and arms, and never, ever, had he felt more defeated and helpless. He turned her slowly to face him, and unable to stand any longer, lowered them both slowly to the ground. I should look for Daniel. I should...

He realized that not all the tears falling were hers.

Father Abrams hesitantly picked his way through the arbor, fruitlessly trying to wave away the stinging smoke still blowing across the field. Since he was a non-combatant, he had been left with the field transmitter just inside the periphery of the woodlands during the battle. He had seen, through the verdure, the launch of the missile and had heard the destruction visited on the Dome. This he dutifully reported to Diocullus via the device, and had decided in the following silence,to rejoin the others. He made out the forms of Avery and Lucille, and was working his way towards them.

Mr. Brown floated toward him from the launcher site, so he slowed at the entity's approach.

"We have recovered our Queen from the half-sphere-shaped construct, Father Abrams. The energy release vaporized the constructs confining her. We have educated her to the newest level of enlightenment we have achieved," vibrated Mr. Brown.

Father Abrams looked at the wavering Crusader (pending). "That's nice, Mr. Brown,"said Abrams distractedly, "you must be pleased." He continued on toward Avery and Lucille, a worried expression on his face.

"Many life patterns have discontinued at this location," noted Mr. Brown.

"That is the only real result of these kinds of activities, to my mind, Mr. Brown."

"These life patterns will continue elsewhere, Father Abrams?"

"That is our belief, Mr. Brown. But these lives were not allowed to fulfill their allotted destiny in this life, Mr. Brown, and that is a cause for deep sorrow."

"Is it not the will of our Maker?"

This brought father Abrams up short. He remembered that this wavering piece of trans-dimensional energy enclosed a thinking mind that had accepted the philosophy of the church.

"We are not compelled to follow enlightened ways...there must always be choice. What happened here is the result of many poor choices. Our mission is to bring others, and ourselves, to make better ones. We believe it is the will of our Maker that we accept responsibility for our actions and go on to make better choices. Bad choices affect us all, and rightly, if not happily, so. An English poet once noted, I paraphrase loosely, That we are all part of one whole, that if any individual be lost, we are all diminished. He chided us not to ask for whom the bell tolls, for it morns us all."

"I must meditate on this, Father Abrams."

"As well you should, my son, as well you should."

The Priest now closed on the decimated Avery and his sister. He drew in a deep breath at the sight of the young body before the pair, and knelt, crossing himself.

Avery focused his tear-blurred eyes on the priest. "My sister Lucille's husband...Daniel. I saw him fall. He....Could..." it was all Avery could say.

Father Abrams nodded and leaned forward, gently taking the shoulders of Lucille and pulling her to him. "Go and see if you can find him, my son. I will stay with Lucille."

Avery stood and walked to the place Daniel had fallen, sank to his knees, and did not risea gain for a long and painful time.

Mr. Brown vacillated over the deceased boy for a moment. Then he floated to the launcher. There was a rending crack, and the entire vehicle disappeared. Suddenly there were thousands of blurs, all in a line, that stretched straight as a surveyor's transit might define as far as the eye could see.The line moved swiftly across the inhabited lands, and no weapon of any kind survived their passage. Then they vanished.

***

Major Mattson stood before the blown-out husk of what used to be the St Croix Research and Development Division. He kicked at a shiny piece of metal before his boot. Behind him, thirty-five surviving commando specialists stood, alertly scanning the surroundings, but with nothing otherwise to do.

He thumbed his transmitter on. "Baine. Are you getting this?"

A scratchy voice funneled out of the field unit and replied, "Yes Major, loud and clear."

"There is nothing here. Do you get me? Nothing. The whole complex is gone, a missile strike. The farmers here have ballistic missiles?"

"Not that we know of, Major."

"The New Vaticans, they have a contingent down?"

"No, Sir. I have talked to them. They are holding well out of orbit, as we requested. Diocullis says there is one missionary here, but he has been at it for a year. Apparently, the missionary called the Vatican when the occupation began, on the behalf of some of the landholders. Seems they didn't appreciate being bottled up in their own estates. There haven't been any further arrivals, just the small task fleet we saw appear before you left. They are requesting permission to land and give aid when we are ready to allow it. It seems the locals were able to liberate one of Gregory's mobile launchers and successfully turn it against the dome."

Major Mattson swore, then noted, "If they were willing to wait, they didn't know what was at stake here. We are done. Send a carrier down to get us."

"Should we land a clean-up force? Interrogators?"

"Hell, no, why waste our men and supplies to clean out a nest of stranded Mercs? Do you think anything a hired grunt has to say is worth my time? Dio wants to do it, let the church handle it. That's not what we came for."

"I will send him a go-ahead to land then?" Baine inquired.

"Do it. Just get us off this mud-ball."