Profound numbness filled the lower half of his body, a sensation which Byron had grown accustomed to over the last several weeks. With all the IVs and stimulators connected to him, he took up a majority of the room. Bandages soaked in orange goo to promote healing wrapped his legs and torso, and the metallic fingers of muscle stimulators bit through them like sharpened spider legs. Next to the commander stood President Marnyo. The tall, dark man appeared to have aged years in the last few weeks, especially his hair, now more gray than black. His face wore a permanent look of deep concern and barely controlled anger, even when smiling. The president’s wife stood next to him, clutching his arm. Both wore the uniforms of Psion Alphas. Also in the room sat the other three surviving members of Alpha Command, the NWG Vice President, and several satellite and communications technicians. Three giant holo-screens lit the room, casting everyone’s face in a gray-blue hue. “Everything we’ve got is online, Mr.
