The Nephilim Protocol

Confrontation

"What the shit is 'Attu Island?'" Dolphin asks me at breakfast, while he guzzles down his third bowl of Corn Flakes.

"Alaska, apparently. Sort of. It's like there's this whole string of frozen islands no-one cares about that dribble out from Alaska, and we're on the one that's way way way out on the end. The closest island is like ... I dunno ... 200 miles of water away. Actual Alaska is nearly 1000 miles away. We're closer to Russia."

Dolphin raises an eyebrow at me.

"I went to the library before breakfast," I admit.

"Nerd."

"We're nowhere, basically," Ball Buster says. "Like it's nearly the definition of the end of the world."

"Hm." Mouse continues to eat.

"You know what I want to know?" Ball Buster says. "I want to know where that old fart got that samurai sword he was playing with. And what that place even was."

"Then why didn't you just go inside, superhero?" I ask.

He snorts. "Yeah, right. Sounds like a sure way to get reported to Old Lady Wolfe. Didn't you say that was a—"

"My friends," says Destro, sliding to a seat next to Mouse. "How have your days been thus far? How can I help?"

"Can you get the kitchen to serve something other than Corn Flakes and oatmeal?" says Ball-Buster.

"Ah. I must apologize. We usually have better food. The blizzard has been keeping the supply planes from coming in for quite some time. This thing is not very unusual—they keep much freeze-dried food on location for such matters. That's what they store things for."

Well, that's just great. "How much stuff do they have stored up?"

"Last year, we ate nothing but oatmeal for a week—for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," Destro says. "Yet we were well, and all was well. There's no cause for worry."

"These supply planes," Ball Buster says. "Where do they land?"

"They don't," says Dolphin. "They just drop the stuff by parachute—if I'm remembering right."

Ball Buster looks crestfallen.

"It's a most fascinating spectacle," Destro says to assure him. "A marvel to behold. I hope you cherish your first sighting of the process." He gets up to move to the next table.

"Hey!" Mouse says, stopping him before he can leave. "Do you know why there aren't any girls here at the camp?"

"They have another camp, I think. That's my belief." He walks off.

"Well," I say. "I think that finishes that little debate."

"He said 'I think,'" Ball Buster points out. "He doesn't know any more than we do."

"I wonder what the females look like," says Dolphin, leaning in conspiratorially. "Like sexy cat aliens? Or sexy bird aliens? Maybe sexy purple aliens with long tentacle hair ..."

"Or maybe big fat blobs of protoplasm, or miniature bug creatures that eat you alive," Ball Buster says. "Or maybe nothing, because maybe Nephilim are just males. I mean, seriously. We're supposed to be angels, right? Angels are always male. Who's heard of angels screwing, anyway?"

"How're you suddenly the angel guy?" I say. "Last I checked, you thought we were mutants. How's it work out, evolution-wise, if the whole species is male?"