When Walter turned fifteen, he was a regular member of the riot team. He was now over six feet tall, and still growing, as Liscomb had predicted.

Father taught him and Jocelyn how to shoot, defend themselves with a knife, use a water tester, and various methods to escape from enemies. This included surveillance, setting traps, and camouflage.

Walter was astounded at the scope of his parents' knowledge and experience. A lifetime of conflict with the Kaezer had developed both of them into resourceful fighters. Even Mother could fire a rifle, skin and butcher an animal, hunt and forage, and administer first aid. She had been a nurse before the invasion, and was an asset to many rebel camps.

Jocelyn and Nathaniel became very close. By the time she was fourteen, he was her boyfriend.

Walter caught them kissing behind one of the storage tents once. He blushed, and excused himself, a little envious that Jocelyn had someone to care for her. He had his family, and a few friends, including Nathaniel. But, in truth, he felt quite alone.

By the time he was sixteen, life for the resistance got a little easier. Several elite members of the old regime remained, dwelling in orbital colonies high above Earth's surface. They fought the Kaezer as best they could, through humanitarian aid, and supplying weapons and ammunition.

Every few weeks, a shuttle arrived. It landed near their camp, and dispensed supplies and strategic information. They told the rebels about a diligent research effort, headed by a famous scientist named Johanna Stonecipher. This research team's goal was to discover a way to purify the bacteria from Earth's water. It was difficult, perhaps impossible. But Stonecipher persisted, and worked tenaciously on the project. This knowledge brought hope, and unified all who sought to defeat the Kaezer, both above and below.

When Walter turned seventeen, his life changed forever.

Liscomb announced they were to launch a tremendous assault on one of the fortified ration camps, and attempt to free the prisoners therein. It was a mission more dangerous than any before.

They convened with other groups from the resistance. Seventeen camps settled together, consisting of over twelve thousand people, and became the largest coalition of free citizens Earth had seen in years.

The evening before the attack, another shuttle from the colonies arrived. Aboard was none other than Johanna Stonecipher, and a man named Richard Blane.

They delivered generous amounts of supplies and arms. Then they both addressed the multitude of fighters, who were to engage the enemy at first light.

Walter stood with his family among the crowd. It was an inspiring, momentous appearance.

Richard Blane was a powerful businessman and grass roots leader among the orbital colonies, one of the main supporters of the resistance. He acknowledged their bravery, and commended all for their relentless efforts against the Kaezer, vowing those above wouldn't give up the fight. They were one family-Earth, Luna, and the colonies of Mars, and he promised the resources of all the worlds were behind the cause of liberty.

The rebels applauded, hollering their enthusiastic support.

Mr. Blane's stunning blue eyes and dazzling smile gleamed beneath the hastily-rigged lighting.

Johanna Stonecipher spoke next. She was about forty, wearing square-shaped spectacles, her brown hair pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head. "I'm pleased to announce that we've finally discovered a solution," she said. "A process which has, under all examination thus far, destroyed the bacteria."

A deafening silence befell the crowd.

"We must test it, to be sure it's safe. But, I promise we'll use this new technology to benefit all mankind."

The remarkable news bolstered the morale of the resistance immeasurably.

Walter awoke with his family. They joined the others, and prepared to move out.

That day lived in his memory as one he wished he could erase forever. He'd never wanted to be a soldier. But, on that occasion, he chose to join the fight, for what he felt was a sense of honor, and dedication to a common cause.

The resistance entrenched themselves on a broad, flat plain near the ration camp, and dug rows of earthen fortifications. All of the ground forces were relying on their allies from space, Blane and Stonecipher, to provide the necessary reinforcements.

They arrived right on time, and with lethal accuracy. As dawn broke across the distant eastern mountains, spilling yellow and red across the land, the aerial attack descended.

It shone in the lengthening sunlight-a formation of space fighters, come to assist them. There must have been at least thirty on that first swoop. They were chromed, streamlined, a beautiful sight. Diving low, their curved wings glistened, engines shrill in the crisp morning air. They fired cannons and dropped bombs in a precise strike against the Kaezer's defenses. Watchtowers. sentries, anything within the multi-layered fences surrounding the ration camp burst into instant flame.

The space fighters passed overhead, and looped about for a second attack.

A mighty cheer rose from the allied fighters of the resistance.

Walter, Nathaniel, and Jocelyn stayed close, watching each other's backs. It was how they worked together when they rioted. They had many surprises for the Kaezer that day, with the gifts provided by Blane and Stonecipher.

Hundreds of robots rose from the foreboding rooftops.

The resistance crouched in their trenches and waited.

Walter gripped his rifle, heart pounding. He watched the sky for the drifters, which were sure to arrive first.

He heard them long before they struck. They flew on round multi-rotor frames in countless numbers, uttering a high-pitched drone. Their revolving guns sprayed a menacing barrage in all directions, propellers screaming as they passed over.

"Fire!" It was the awaited command from Liscomb.

Walter pulled the trigger.

It didn't matter if they hit or not on that first round. This was a custom-designed bullet from Stonecipher, designed to spread, not to strike. Fired in unison, it brought that first wave of drifters to a stifling halt within a spidery web of charged fibers, a net of deactivation to any and all robots unfortunate enough to be caught in it.

Then came the walkers, slow in preparation, but deadly in their execution. These also were nothing new to the rioters, and there were more toys from their allies above.

Walter, Jocelyn, and Nathaniel had this tactic practiced between them. And now they each had a tripwire gun, not just one to their team.

They waited, watching as one of the walkers focused on them. Its antenna trailed, dense footsteps thudding against the ground as it charged at full velocity.

Nathaniel was the chosen leader of their trio. He was highly observant, and never failed in his timing.

The walker fired, pelting the earthen barrier. They heard the usual whirr, as its weapons reloaded. There were always a few predictable seconds between rounds with this model of robot.

"Now!" Nathaniel gave the cue.

They charged, and fired in their rehearsed formation. The tripwires shot, grappling the walker's legs.

It swayed and fell to one side with a pathetic crash, engine whining against the restraints.

They rushed toward it.

Jocelyn cut its central power line with one swing of her bayonet, and it lay still at their feet.

They ducked behind it, using its fallen hull for a shield as the next wave of drifters shrieked overhead.

Liscomb's thunderous voice called out. "Villamont, Young, follow me. The rest of you, stay put, until I give the order."

Walter waited with the others. He felt oddly calm at that moment, as if time itself stood still, and met eyes with Jocelyn. Her smile illuminated her face, beneath all of the sweat and grime. This was what she'd always wanted to do, her joy abounding.

The earth rumbled. As Villamont led his robots towards the burning fences, the ground roiled and broke. Dirt and stone disintegrated from a sharp, spinning metallic point. It pushed upward, into the daylight, like the head of some monstrous beast, hewn of half-rusted, muddy steel.

The spiraling tip grew larger as it surfaced. A gigantic drill, long and ominous, pierced the pale morning, surrounded by rows of smaller ones. All twisted at insane speed, with the screech of metal upon metal.

Two impossibly large mechanical arms reached for the sky, then settled, and pushed the rest of the anomalous robotic body into view. Its enormous treads squealed as they rolled out, demolishing everything in their path.

"What the hell is that?" Jocelyn shouted.

More appendages extended, legs or arms, Walter couldn't tell. It was a jumble of tentacled mayhem, waving chaotically about. The colossal robot was eight stories tall at least, once it had fully revealed itself. It blackened the horizon with billows of thick diesel exhaust, as well as its leering mass.

"It's a burrower. Take cover!" Liscomb and the others retreated, and hid behind whatever they could find.

"Dear God," Nathaniel said.

The burrower wailed like a siren, but a thousand times louder than any Walter had heard before.

Everyone winced beneath the shriek.

On the other side of the ration camp, two more burrowers emerged. Now there were three. Their serpentine, razored appendages lashed out, whipped and sliced through nearby bodies, lifting people and tossing them about.

The space fighters descended again, and fired their cannons at the giant war machines. The bullets bounced in vain against the armored hulls, a hollow and desperate patter.

Long panels opened along the sides of the burrowers, like sharp, hooked wings. Cannons extended to the sky. More robots poured out, and troopers leaped forth at unnatural speed and distance, their robotic body armor glinting through firelight and smoke.

Liscomb waved. "Everyone, fall back."

Walter obeyed, following Jocelyn and Nathaniel. He ran as quickly as he could, and the ground trembled again.

This time, it was mortars.

An explosion struck a little too close, spraying earth around him, choking him with dust and smoke. The blast threw him several yards, and he landed on his face.

Jocelyn and Nathaniel stopped to help him up.

He gasped when he stood. Pain rushed through his left leg, and a dark red spot expanded across the gray fabric of his pants.

"Get him back to the pit." Jocelyn's voice faltered, but her arm was unbelievably strong around him. She and Nathaniel helped him hobble back to their previous position, behind the earthen defense.

Another wave of drifters passed over, the little menaces always circling and firing.

"Do you have any more of the web ammo?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes," Jocelyn said.

"Load up. We'll get them on their next pass."

"Right. But let's get a look at you first, big brother."

Jocelyn tore Walter's pant leg back to inspect the injury. The pain was a burning, numbing pulse from his calf to his hip.

Lots of blood. He hissed as she peeled the fabric away.

"It's deep," she said. "We've got to stop the bleeding, and get you to Mother."

Walter clenched his jaw, and shook his head. "I'll be alright for a moment. Let's get those drifters, so they don't shoot us in the back."

Jocelyn nodded, though concern lined her brow.

Another mortar boomed nearby. Someone screamed.

They loaded their specialized ammo, and waited for the right moment.

On shout from Nathaniel, they fired at the approaching sweep of drifters, meeting them head on with another spreading web of deactivation fibers. The charge snapped, flashed, and the drifters fell like abandoned playthings.

Jocelyn tore a strip of cloth off of her shirt hem, and pressed upon Walter's leg, as the world descended into turmoil around them.

The burrowers continued their excruciating wail, and rolled slowly forward.

Humans and robots collided in brash chaos.

There were a few enemy zeppelins and rotorcraft looming above. Blane and Stonecipher's space fighters shot these down without much trouble, leaving heaps of flaming machinery along the ground.

Nathaniel kept watch, while Jocelyn tended to Walter.

As the resistance clashed head on with the Kaezer's ground forces, the aid from their allies above intensified.

The approaching drone of enormous propellers heralded the return of the space fighters. This time, they escorted a cavalcade of massive aircraft.

The sleek fighters flew low again, and fired more rounds along the borders of the camp, taking out more of the robots and troopers.

The larger aircraft descended, and landed. About twenty heavy vessels, their wings folded and treads emerged as soon as they touched down. These new reinforcements rolled in, crushing trees and rocks before them. Blane and Stonecipher delivered again, with a fleet of armored land ships. Advancing steadily onto the field to engage the burrowers, their turrets turned to fire heavy artillery against anything resembling the Kaezer's defenses, flame throwers incinerating all in their path.

The resistance cheered, and followed in their wake.

All but three teenagers, pressed together in a shallow trench, bloodied fingers taut against their weapons as their comrades pursued the giant vehicles.

Liscomb was still close, doing his best to guide his team. He shouted a warning. "Gas bombers incoming. Masks!"

They hurried to don their gas masks.

Walter reminded himself to breathe calmly and regularly. The pain in his leg and the loss of blood made him dizzy.

"We've got to get him out of here, Nathaniel. The bleeding won't staunch. He's weak. Help me carry him."

Jocelyn and Nathaniel supported Walter between them, and helped him to half drag, half stumble off the battlefield.

Mother and several other medics waited in the nearby trees, with transports and supplies for any wounded.

As they neared the concealing safety beyond, a man ran toward them, through the shroud of smoke, dust, and toxic gas. The round, clouded panes of his mask were difficult to see through, but Walter recognized Father, and heard him shouting his name.