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there suspended, clearly powerless, the black weapon seemed ominous. Its dark, unreflective surface was matt and smooth, with almost no reflections. Tom saw what appeared to be spikes and blades pushing out from the weapon's back, head and limbs. Probably antennas and other aerials, thought Tom. They made the Serpent seem even more intimidating. They made it seem like a horned demonic weapon of war.
    The hall was tall enough to enable the Serpent to stand to its full ten-feet height. The Serpent's limbs were lean and powerful, with huge clawed hands and feet. Its midsection was triangular, like a well-toned human swimmer, strong but slim. The Serpent gave the impression of a gaunt humanoid creature with a well-muscled midsection and long arms and legs that were too skeletal.
    The Serpent's head was craned up, looking at the ceiling, and Tom was a little grateful for that. He did not wish to meet the weapon's eyeless stare again, just right now.
    Tom blinked. It took him a while to realize that the Serpent's midsection, its upper torso, was open. A host of tube endings and wires were held suspended on a much finer grid, waiting for the pilot.
    "I go in there?” asked Tom dazedly.
    "Yes, Lieutenant, in a fetal position," the lab-coated man said distractedly. He was standing near a desk, talking on a phone with short, terse sentences. "Yeah, he's here. We're beginning to put him in. Tell him he has five minutes before we start anesthetizing procedures. Yeah!" The man put down the phone, put his round glasses on and turned to his techies. "Let's begin."
    Tom felt really uncomfortable about this. Everything was really happening too fast. He held onto the sides of the bed tightly. The techies swarmed over him and started working. The bed was raised to the level of the Serpent and the techies stood on the scaffolding that surrounded the weapon. Tom was gently but firmly inserted into the Serpent. He assumed a fetal position and the tubes and wires from his suit were connected to the Serpent.
    Tom squirmed. It wasn't exactly comfortable inside the Serpent, and he started feeling a little claustrophobic, even though the hatch hadn't been closed yet. Tom felt his limbs strain against the immovable surface of the Serpent's pilot cockpit. Metal restraints were now being fastened over his arms, legs and torso, holding him tightly in place.
    "We can't have you moving freely here. You might hurt yourself during maneuvers," the lead tech type said. Tom was feeling really queasy now, though the suit gases were keeping his body cool and comfortable.
    "Lieutenant?" It was the general who now appeared suddenly at his side, standing on the scaffolding so he could look into Tom's eyes. "How are you doing?"
    Tom took a moment to reply. He saw the worry lines on the old man's tough face hadn't disappeared. Quite the contrary, they seemed more pronounced now.
    "I'm doing okay, Sir," Tom said with little conviction. 
    "I know this part is not pleasant, but as soon as they turn the Serpent on, you'll feel completely different, son. Lieutenant, I wanted to come here to tell you how proud I am in you people. It's not simple to do what you're about to do. You're doing a great service to your country," the general said.
    "I'm just following orders, Sir," Tom said with a little more confidence than he felt.
    "Nonsense! This is above and beyond the call of duty. I know about your sister, son. If the New York City operation goes well, I'll make sure Atlanta is next."
    Tom said nothing.
    "Lieutenant, let me shake your hand—"
    "Sir, we've already strapped him in—"
    "So, free his hand!" The general fumed and the tech people removed the metal straps around Tom's right hand. He could not lower his head to see, but he felt strong, gnarly hands tightly grab his own.
    "Sir, I'm just following orders," Tom said again when he felt his hand being shaken vigorously.
    "Nonsense, Lieutenant. The human race is counting on you, not to mention the army and me. You're a