Children of the Program by Brad Cox Page B

is now officially over,” said Simon to Ash and Neco, leaving lingering quotations and judgment in the cool air.  “If you're going to continue to lay on the dirty ground in your birthday suits and pretend to sleep, you can at least make it a little more exciting for the rest of us!” 
                  Neco kissed Ash and said, “Let's get up!” 
                  “So, you're a tough girl?” Juno smiled, asking Zane.
                    “Only when I have to be,” she returned, with a smile.  “My father wasn't the most stable of individuals.  A girl has to know how to protect herself, you know?  I never really knew if he was going to be ready to kick some tail, after a hard day, or cuddle.  I mean, he's Irish,” she furthered.
                  Juno laughed.  “What if I could teach you how to dance?  You know, if you mix dance with your instinct to fight, your movements will be become fluid.  You'll be unstoppable.  It's the main difference between martial arts and street fighting.”  She paused.  “Give me your tough little hands, sweetheart!”
                  They practiced in the hot morning sun, connected and learned from one another.  Despite her somewhat rough upbringing, Zane always maintained a sweet and approachable demeanor.  In stark contrast, stood Icarus. 
                  “Would you ladies mind if I joined you?  I could use a few new friends!”
                  Zane and Juno understood his gesture, smirked and let him have his precocious fun.
                  “Go ahead,” offered Zane. 
                  Icarus then grabbed the girls and lifted them, like an offering to the sun.
                  Juno laughed.  “Then again, who needs to be able to dance or fight when you can simply pick-up everyone in the damn room?”
                  “The Incredible Hulk is real,” said Grayson, making a mock headline for a future story.  “Not to interrupt, but we all had a very wild night.  What no one seems to be addressing is the sea of dead birds by our feet.  Does anyone find it alarming?  I mean, they are black, so, they obviously symbolize creation, but, I'm at a loss,” furthered Grayson.
                  “I think The Council just wanted us to wake-up and remember what took place,” offered Neco.  “That or this black bird is in the cosmic dog house!”
                  “It's not like we can exactly forget.  I think they are here to show us how many times we'll try and fail and not to underestimate The Program.  Creation is a beautiful thing, but we've all been sent here to produce a child with a certain special unknown someone.  It sounds simple, but it's clearly not or we wouldn't be standing in the desert and surrounded by feathered creatures that are covered in flies,” Grayson continued.
                  “OK, changing lanes!  If this is the last time we're all going to be together, we should have a party,” insisted Ash.
                  The group immediately forgot the suggestion, as the roar of Magnus's chariot emerged in the shadowy distance.  It was the most welcome and triumphant image they’d seen since The Council's light show.  Elisa's dirty blond hair blew in the mild breeze.  She was holding two large plastic supply bags.  The motorcycle made short work of the desert and arrived, posthaste.  Magnus slid his tires to aid the brakes. 
                  “We hope you like Dorito's, cold pizza, NoDoz and water,” said Elisa, dispersing the goods.
    “It's got to be better than blackbird," said Ash. 
    “I’d say,” said Grayson, in a huff.
    “Sorry, Gray, I was just trying to lighten the mood,” said Ash.  “So, getting back on the topic, what if we have a child with a special someone in the group?” asked Ash, grabbing for Neco's