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many supporters on the web, he was alone in his fight, like a warrior of old, facing new challenges each day. Zack knew he could rely on no one but himself.
    Martial arts didn’t belong in his curriculum, but his sister’s abduction had changed Zack’s outlook on life. He realized how ethereal freedom, life, even health could be. He didn’t take anything for granted anymore. Zack had sworn he’d fight to keep and protect what he held dear. And for that he must become stronger mentally, physically and psychically. Somehow he knew the day would come when he would face the monster who took away his baby sister. When that time came, he wanted to be ready.
    The familiar tug of his sister’s call in his mind broke his concentration. Zack stopped in mid movement. “Ashley?”
    I’m scared, Zack. They know I’ve been talking to you since I’ve been here. They want to fix me. Please, Zack, come get me! I want to go home.
    The tenuous connection severed before he could respond. Zack’s heart beat wildly. What could he do? How could he help? He imagined how the nine year-old would look now and blinked back tears of frustration. He let out a low growl. For the past two years, he’d communicated at length with Ashley every day. This contact was cut short? Why? She’d never sounded so scared. The thought that irreversible physical harm could come to her at the hands of these degenerate beings was too much to bear.
    Heading back toward the shower rooms as students and spectators started to trickle into the dojo, Zack returned to his locker. Out of his pack he took a black spiral notebook and a pen, checked the wall clock then dated the entry with the precise time. His pen shook as he scribbled the short message Ashley had given him, as accurately as he could remember it. Although he doubted this one would help find her, it was the most desperate. Besides, if the aliens knew of their extended regular mind contacts, this might very well be the last.
    Zack was writing a book about the abduction. All the details he’d learned from his daily psychic contacts with Ashley mattered. Over the years, he’d spent many hours linked to his sister’s mind, observing, studying the Anaz-voohri. He knew much about her captors, probably too much. If they suspected how much he knew, would they come after him, too? Zack secretly hoped they would show up soon. They were his only link to Ashley.
    Zack’s best friend, Lobo, rushed into the locker room, out of breath, his long black hair falling like a curtain on each side of his coppery face. “Dude, the website crashed again!" Lobo dropped his pack on the wooden bench and braced his foot to remove his Nikes.
    “You sure?" Zack couldn’t believe it would happen again so soon. “It’s nine times in six months!”
    “I know. But this time, it’s really cool." Stripped to his boxers, Lobo waved his fingers in a descending movement, like a hula girl imitating the rain. “Green and black rain runs all over the screen, like it’s dissolving the data. It’s awesome!"
    ”Crap." Zack refrained from using the F-word. Not because of the dojo rule. He didn’t believe in rules anymore. But he’d learned in Martial Arts that using vile language demonstrated lack of self-control. “The Feds again?”
    “Looks like it." Lobo pulled his white uniform out of his locker and slipped on the pants. “We have all the firewalls money can't even buy, and this kind of virus is not your garden variety. It’s not just a prank, it’s amazing." Lobo grabbed his white jacket. “Has to be the Feds.”
    “Good thing we back up all our files." Zack remembered the first time it happened. It had taken two weeks to repair the damage.
    “No shit." Lobo tied the brown belt around his slim hips. “Just when we almost reached a million hits, too. The counter will go back to zero again. Bummer." He gathered his slick hair into a pony tail with a rubber band and winked. “Good luck on your black belt test, dude.