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lay on a couch, eyes closed, forced into a subconscious state by an old dude named Donny, whose long white beard matched his lab coat.

Slade sat in the room as well. He watched intently. Not the most relaxing mĂ©nage. Still, Donny’s voice lured him deeper and deeper. Down the escalator, through the fields of grain, and across the languid seas until he was in a place both familiar and unfamiliar, but profoundly relaxing. Massive screens hung from invisible wires while a series of glyphs flashed and danced and winked at him.

“What do you see?” Donny asked.

Jaxx spoke in a whisper. “The glyphs on the screen. They are in English. They weren’t in English yesterday.”

“It is safe to speak up, Mr. Jaxx. Your subconscious mind is seeing the symbols the easiest way it can. What do the words say in English?”

“They say
” Jaxx went silent. His view went from the screen to another image altogether. “I’m not on Earth anymore.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I was shipped here. They sent me without training. No, that’s wrong. I was trained, but I don’t believe that I’ve been trained well.”

“Who are they?”

“The Secret Space Program.”

He heard Slade writhe in his chair.

“Where exactly are you?” Donny inquired.

A shift occurred. The in-between state, where patient and hypnotherapist could talk together, moved from being in two worlds into one. Donny was there, but not there. His voice hung in the air, like a phantasm. “It’s okay to let us know, in words, where you have found yourself, Kaden. We’re all friends, here.”

Jaxx strapped into a starfighter and waited for the go-ahead to launch out of a Star Carrier’s bay. The smell of new upholstery filled the cockpit. Was he in a brand new starfighter?

With a ninety-nine percent chance he’d die today, he didn’t want to be in a starfighter. He didn’t want to be in space. Well, he did, but not under these conditions.

Both hands were on his starfighter’s control stick. He shook, squeezing his grip tighter and tighter as he waited for the starfighters in front of him to blast out of the amber glowing launch tubes.

He was next.

His comm line came alive.

“You ready?” It was a woman’s voice. He gave a sideways glance out of his cockpit window. Another starfighter waited alongside him in the launch queue. The pilot gave a thumbs up.

“No, I’m not.” Bile filled his throat and he swallowed hard to get the evil liquid to subside. No one liked barf inside their helmet when shot into space.

“Well, they’re in full force today. When you exit the launch tube, push your control stick forward and you’ll head straight down. Their cannons may miss you.”

Jaxx gasped and closed his eyes as the Star Carrier shuddered, pummeled by enemy fire. Everything around him jostled violently. They’d been surrounded for hours. He didn’t know how they were going to survive this onslaught. Why did they usher him into combat? He’d gone through a few simulations and basic star pilot training. Nothing more. He wondered if they ran out of pilots.

His launch tube opened.

The comm line blared. “Starfighter 117, this is Mission Control. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, you’re ready for launch. Proceed forward.”

They say death came swiftly out here. The war had been long, decades in fact. Jaxx, a newbie; green as green could be. They shipped him to this quadrant a few days ago—a quadrant within the Sagittarius arm, between two planets with no names.

Screw those planets.

He perspired. He went to dab his face. His visor blocked his hand. No time. He had to go.

He moved the craft forward and his cockpit glowed a deep, vibrant amber as he entered the launch tube. The tube’s doors closed behind him, signaling that his time to flee the cockpit had ended. He could no longer jump out of his craft and run out of the launch bay and into the ship’s main lobby.

He wanted to. Boy did he want to. Now there was no turning back.

The tube’s exit doors opened and Jaxx experienced weightlessness, his cockpit restraints the only thing fastening him to his seat. He saw stars out in front of him at the end of the long tube, along with a gray planet.

He prepared his starfighter for launch, then stiffened when he saw another starfighter explode in space, then flame out a moment later.

Another explosion and another.

“What happens next, Mr. Jaxx?”

“What do you mean Mission Control? I don’t understand
”

“Mr. Jaxx, you’re in a hypnotherapy session. This isn’t Mission Control. You’re safe here. You’re safe. Any feelings that come from your memories will not affect you when you awaken. You are safe. You are safe. Tell us what happens next.”

Jaxx felt the cold leather against his fingertips and opened his eyes, blinking several times. “What?”

“You’re coming out of it. A little too soon. It was intense, so it’s quite understandable,” Donny said.

Jaxx rubbed his eyes. “It seemed so real. It was as if I was there. Was I dreaming?”

Donny looked at Slade and then at Jaxx. “It was real. It looks like Slade and Captain Richard Fox aren’t the only ones who used to work with the Secret Space Program.”

Jaxx felt the chill race clear down to his bones. If Slade was part of this so-called “secret” space program, and he was a trained stone-cold killer—which he was positive Slade was—what did that make him?

5 May 24thUnderfoot Black, Grenada

The lights were out and Jaxx flipped onto his side. In bed, he couldn’t sleep. He fluffed his pillow and plopped his head on top of it for the umpteenth time, doing his best to forget about yesterday’s hypnotherapy session. Ten minutes of shut-eye would be grand, but he was stuck on an endless loop, Secret Space Program, starfighter, pilot, killer


“No way. You can’t be part of a ‘Secret Space Program’ and forget it. They’re planting fake memories. I don’t know why or how, but that’s the only logical explanation.”

The loop started up again, Secret Space Program, starfighter, pilot, killer


He had to get out of the

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