My sleep was shattered by three sharp raps which crashed through my slumber like gunshots in a nightmare on the morning of the third day.

"What the hell!" I hurled myself from my bed, stomped across the floor and jerked open the door.

"Do you have any idea of the time?" My growl faded to a reluctant sigh as Sheila pushed past me into the quarters Darlene and I had shared since our arrival at the compound last fall.

"Good morning, Sky, time for coffee," she said with a slight smile.

"It's not morning," I looked out the window at a black sky filled with stars shining through the fading glow of Northern Lights. I rubbed grains of sleep from my eyes and complained, "It's the middle of the effn' night. I only got three hours of shuteye."

"Hour more than me. Your day begins with mine; you've got ten minutes to shit, shave, and shower, and, by the way, change your nasty underwear. You stink." She wrinkled her nose. "Meet me on the southwest deck. I'll be waiting."

The chief turned on her heel and walked out the door without another word. Her invitation was not open to debate. I was at her beck and call.

I rubbed the stubble on my chin as I looked down at my dingy-gray whitey-tighties and sniffed my armpit. She might have a point.

My hair was still damp as I took a seat across from Sheila at the cafe style table and awaited her instructions. I sipped from my cup and gazed at the strange, yet familiar sky around us. The thin sliver of the crescent moon lingering just above the western horizon had an eerie feel about it as we drifted in a twilight zone between our worst nightmares and our worst fears. Yesterday was history and tomorrow hadn't arrived yet.

The sky no longer belonged to man. The ubiquitous contrails crisscrossing the heavens had been replaced by scattered clouds and the slowly fading displays of the Northern Lights. The commercial airways which a few days ago had sounded the news of the world now serenaded us with hissing static.

Sheila glanced at her wristwatch. "You're two minutes early."

"Yeah, I skipped the shave," I grumbled as I finished tucking my clean shirt into my cargo pants. I rubbed the stubble on my chin and brushed a few thin damp strands of runaway hair from my face.

"Have a seat," the commander nodded as she pointed to the vacant chair in front of me.

With a smile, she tilted her body forward and filled my empty cup with a cloud of steaming brew and slid the crystal sugar bowl across the tiny table.

My smile froze as I sat down and adjusted my chair's position to face the Chief. The growing knot of dread within me was made no easier by the leader's demand that I join her for coffee at this ungodly hour.

"Why so early? What's up?" I bit my lower lip and looked at my timepiece.

"Nothing. I just want to know what you think." Sheila tilted her head to one side and locked her eyes to mine.

"About what, er, what do you mean?" I blanched at the intensity of her gaze. It was as if she stood at the gates of my mind. Could she read my thoughts? I shivered and averted my eyes.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Sheila commanded. I squirmed in my seat and returned her gaze. "You did a fantastic job when the shit hit the fan. I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you." Sheila's eyes softened as she smiled at my puzzled expression.

"Why am I getting praise for doing my job?" I frowned and waited for her answer.

"No praise. Only the truth." My boss leaned forward; the irises of her eyes widened and focused on mine. "However, from that night forward? Not so much." Her eyes narrowed as she continued to search my eyes for unspoken thoughts.

"What are you talking about?" I scanned my memory for guilt. What the hell had I done wrong?

"At least a hundred times since the event you started to say something, and you checked yourself and said nothing each time," she sighed.

"Okay. Yes?" I blinked as I acknowledged the truth and wondered why it mattered. I like to keep my thoughts to myself until I decide what I want to say.

"What," she paused, took a deep breath and leaned closer to me, "Are you thinking?" Sheila's voice lowered to a whispering question as she moved her nose inches from mine and delivered each syllable as a complete sentence.

I opened my mouth to speak, but silence consumed my words.

"You are my assistant and part of my team." She held her cup in both hands and studied me as she took another sip.

"What's going on in there? What are you thinking?" She tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows in inquiry as she tapped her finger against my forehead.

"Do you really want to know?" I blinked and leaned back in my chair, wiping the palms of my hands on my pants as I put space between her and myself.

"Yes, Sky, please tell me." She nodded and leaned back in her chair and gave me a thin smile. "Speak your mind."

"You ain't gonna like this, Boss, but I think that we're screwed. "I don't know what's out there," I waved to the southwestern horizon, "But whatever it is ain't good."

"We survived without a scratch," Sheila frowned as she sat upright. "What more can we ask?"

"Yes we survived, but our technology didn't." I turned and pointed at the cabin behind us. "Everything with a chip is dead. We lost it all." I struggled to keep fear from my face. "The only shit still working is the gizmos in the cavern."

My heart raced as a surge of adrenaline flooded through my body. "We were fucking decimated!" I slammed my fist on the table and jumped back as our coffee cups sloshed and danced with the sugar bowl and leaping spoons. "Oh, Shit! I'm sorry," I apologized as coffee raindrops fell over us. "Yeah, we survived. We're a hell of a lot better off than the poor bastards out there."

I nodded my head in the direction of the night sky. "Therein lies the problem. We're better off than them, and there is a shitload more thems out there then there is us."

"We've got guns," Sheila said as she used her napkin to mop up the ring of spilled coffee around her cup.

"So did General Custer. How'd it work for him?" I brushed my hair back with my hand and inhaled deeply. "Relax, Dude, you're blowing it," I muttered under my breath.

"I'm sorry for the theatrics, Boss." I used my napkin to wipe the table. "We're going to look like the lost city of Eldorado to the folks out there. We've got a treasure of computers, power, and food instead of a fortune in gold. Whatta' ya think will happen when they come for us?"

I paused. "We'll be screwed figuratively, if not literally, screwed. We're fucked. Remember the convicts?"

Sheila's face hardened as she clenched her jaw. "They're dead," the commander answered in a flat, harsh whisper.

"That they are. How do you think that story would've ended if there had been a few hundred of 'em with more guns than God?" I looked over my shoulder and shivered. "Diplomacy is the sharpest sword of war. We need to figure out how to win without conflict," I took a sip of the now tepid coffee.

"What? Surrender?" Sheila's eyes widened.

"Surrender? Shit no. We win by turning adversaries into allies. We share the wealth. The Sisterhood's survival depends upon us becoming merchants of knowledge."

The chief gave me a skeptical look as she followed my lead and took a sip of her coffee. "And if we don't?" she motioned for me to continue.

"Then whatever we've got will be taken away by someone bigger and stronger than us." I spread my hands open in a sign of finality. "We share the fruits from our tree of knowledge. We barter information for protection. We give the other side a chance to see cooperation carries more benefits than confrontation." I sprinkled a bit more sugar into my cup and stirred it with my spoon.

"So? You're advocating that we stay alive by becoming, what's it called, friends with benefits?" she wrinkled her nose and frowned.

"Not the kind of benefits I had in mind." I winced at my lousy choice of words as I took a sip and stared at the rising colors of sunrise. "A new day cometh." I raised my mug and saluted the dawn and downed the last dregs from my cup of java. I like coffee I can chew.

"What will we do when we run out of this stuff?" she mused as she lifted the cup to her lips and let the last drops drip on her tongue.

"Drink pine needle tea?" I shrugged as I stared into my empty cup.

"No. I'm serious," she stiffened in her seat.

"So am I. We gotta go without if we can't grow it, get it, or improvise." I walked over to the railing and scanned the sky. "We do what humans have always done. We make do with what we got while we make what we need," I said into the night.

"Fortune favors the prepared." Sheila rested her hand on my shoulder as she joined me and we shared the view from beyond the cabin.

"Maybe. But luck favors the house. Life's a betting game. We win until we lose." I took a pre-rolled blunt stuffed with the sister's weed from my breast pocket, tapped it on the railing and struck a match. "We all lose In the end. No one leaves this game alive," I lit my joint and inhaled as I flipped the used match into the darkness.

"Pessimist." She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she took a toke and blew a perfect smoke ring.

"Realist." I coughed out a cloud of smoke as my hand gave her arm a thank you hug.

=^.^=

We beat the morning crew by an hour and, except for Martha messing about in the bakery, we had the kitchen to ourselves, at least for the time being. Sheila did the eggs while I busied myself burning toast and brewing a new batch of breakfast blend from Colombia.

Our breakfast banter was as scrambled as our conversation as we nibbled and pecked at one topic after another like free-range chickens. It was hard to eat with a mouthful of words, but we managed.

"Thank you, Boss, that was delicious." With a burp, I used my last piece of toast to clean my plate.

"Knock it off, the name is Sheila, not Boss," the Society's leader smiled. "There's no rank in the Mess." She speared the last morsel of the egg with her fork and popped it into her mouth and gave me a wink.

"Aye, aye, Madam." The fingertips of my right hand touched my right eyebrow in salute.

"You're hopeless!" she snorted as she suppressed a chuckle and crisply returned my sloppy salute and patted my hand on the downstroke.

"I'll get these. Wait here; let me see if Martha has finished the donuts."

The Chief hastily stacked the dirty dishes together and wiped the table with a swatch of linen with the skill of a truck stop waitress. I couldn't help but smile. Cleaning products had evolved full circle within the Sisterhood as linen cloths replaced paper towels and toilet paper which had replaced linen.

I squirmed in my chair and attempted to find a new sitting position to cushion my backside as I tried to eavesdrop on Sheila's and Martha's conversation. My rear end had developed more flab than fluff as my stuffing settled on the south side of comfortable since my last birthday. Getting old is a flat out pain in the ass.

They were at the edge of my hearing as they spoke. I leaned forward and cuffed my hand near my ear to catch the voices of the three women. The best I could manage was words without meaning as distance and tinnitus distorted and jumbled syllables into a mushy sounding English devoid of meaning.

The ever-present knot of anxiety in my gut tensed as I watched the Frost Queen join the two senior members of the Sisterhood. Something was going down, and I needed to be at Sheila's side, more for my protection than hers. I am keenly aware that my status among the sisterhood is fragile and subject to change, and the SkyFire event had changed everything.

"Fine! I'll bring it before the committee if that's how you want it," Frosty shouted over her shoulder while stomping off in the direction of the Great Room.

I learned the hard way unexpected wind shifts will swamp the unprepared as an amateur sailor. The predictable and comfortable of rank-based dialogue between the commander and me had gone missing. I was invited to share my mind without fear as if I were among equals instead.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself as a sailor. The best I could manage was half-remembered lyrics by some Canadian guy named Stan Rogers who warned kids not to take our moments for granted because 'they can go from calm to a hundred knots so fast that they seem enchanted.'

No question about it. The mood of the colony was shifting, and something was brewing. I didn't have a clue, but change was in the air.

"What was that all about?” I nodded in the direction of Frosty's departure and took my place next to and slightly behind the director. I had learned by trial and error that it was the safest place to be; nearby and out of the way.

"Nothing. That was Belinda being Belinda. She has issues," Sheila said with a smile that failed to reach her eyes.

"Oh hell! Her issues have issues, but still, she has a point. You really should bring it up with the Executive Committee," Martha wrapped her arm around Sheila's shoulder and gave the Chief a reassuring hug.

"Very well, I'll put it on the agenda, right after I give the report on Mister Wolf's six-month performance evaluation." Sheila returned Martha's hug. "I've just spent the morning interviewing him, and I'm almost done. I'll have his report before the Ex-Com within the hour," the Chair said to Martha as she turned to me and winked with a less than sincere smile of apology.

Evaluation Report? Interview? What the hell!? My testicles crawled into my belly. No rank in a mess, my ass. She had wanted to know my mind, and like a fool, I had opened myself up to her inspection and had exposed my unedited fears. Not knowing if I should feel betrayed or what, I settled on being bewildered and confused. What the heck was going on?

My boss sat on the small sofa Darlene and I had used as we waited for our first meeting with the Colony's leader instead of taking her place behind her executive desk. The uneasy feeling in my gut rumbled to life as Sheila sat down and patted the cushion next to her and invited me to sit next to her.

"We need to talk, Sky.”