A story about the perversions of war, with all the vises; murder, rape and mayhem.

It had begun suddenly, like Satan's hand descending onto an ill-prepared world. An innocuous burst of crimson lit the night sky and then her small office like a low power camera flash.

Kristen held her breath as she sat behind her large ebony desk, waiting for the inevitable rumble to carry across the ruined city. At last it came, washing across the room like far away thunder. God, how she wished it had been thunder. She began to shake, but willed the tremors from her body. She took a deep breath and stood.

She could see her reflection in the dark glass of the windows as she rose to her feet. The fluorescent lights built into the ceiling bathed her in an ethereal spotlight keeping the darkness of the outside world at bay. Her long blonde hair flowed around her face, almost like a halo. She knew she wasn't an angel, not even close, but she didn't deserve to die. Not tonight as surely she would.

Another flash, off to her right, burned its way across the cityscape. Even at this distance the flashes almost blinded her. She touched the glass of the huge window, pressing against it lightly and feeling the coolness beneath her fingertips. She'd heard that some lawyer, years ago, before all this, before she was born, had tested the glass by jumping against it. Stupidity, gravity, glass and weak adhesive had won, earning him a prestigious Darwin nomination.

She doubted that she could repeat the dive, but it was better than the alternative of simply waiting. Perhaps she would attempt the jump later, if she could bring herself to conquer her instinctive fear of heights. She could wait a while yet; it would be some time before they came for her.

She could see the tiny people so far below as she leaned lightly against the window. Small ants running along Bay and King streets. The cars and taxis were in gridlock under the streetlamps, belching up noxious gases into the smog ridden downtown atmosphere. Everyone was frantic to leave. They wouldn't escape. They couldn't escape anymore than she. The smoke was already beginning to drift down towards the lake from the fires surely burning to the north and east.

She closed her eyes as the next rumble washed over her senses. She shivered knowing more lives had just been extinguished. She turned, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She reached for the phone, knowing it was useless even before the small speaker reached her ear. Only the harsh whine of feedback issued from the device. No dial tone.

She allowed a tear to fall down her face. She had desperately wanted to say good-bye to Jake. But that wasn't to be. Even if the phones worked, there was no guarantee that he wasn't already dead. She closed her eyes and prayed silently into the uncaring room.

Her mind flipped back in time. She had only been a young girl when it had begun. It had begun slowly. Riots. Demonstrations. She could barely remember the beginnings. She vividly remembered her father taking her to the parades. But the parades had been so much more and she hadn't understood. It had been nearly twenty-five years ago. She had been too young. But she had grown - grown into a smart, beautiful young lady. And her father had perished in the early Gender Wars.

Now, she understood far too much. The violence. The Gender Wars. The Labour Wars. The Environment Wars. The Race Wars. Wars without end. There had never been an end. Not really. Not for her. It was coming to a head directly outside her window. This was different, more severe, more final. This would be the last war, she could feel it with a certainty that would not be denied. Just a glimmering of understanding of something that simply wasn't comprehensible.

She cringed as another explosion rocked the city. Three years ago. A terrorist bomb on the Yonge subway line. She still remembered the flash of heat and light, the screaming, the interminable wait, trying to comfort the injured, the dying, ignoring the dead. Bombs. Guns. Violence. The outside world had erupted into her private subway train. She closed her eyes trying to shut out the cries that still haunted her. She wasn't alone with her daemons. Not in this world.

She wondered if this building had been targeted for demolition with her still inside, or if she would be hunted and killed by the stormtroopers along with everyone else. If she couldn't jump, then she silently hoped that her building would collapse. It would be better than the terror of the stormtroopers. Fear ground into her stomach like a red hot iron pressed deep into her soul. She tried to will it away, but wasn't very successful.

A startled scream escaped her lips as the lights extinguished, plunging her into an inky darkness. It was a moment before the low power emergency beacons turned on. She knew that their meager light wouldn't last long, but she was grateful that they still worked. She hated the dark. She moaned softly and rocked in her leather chair, hugging herself.

Another rumble penetrated her numb mind, louder and closer than the others. She rose again and walked slowly to the windows, pressing her nose against the glass. They had gotten the tower. She couldn't remember when the tower had been built, it had been before she was born. It had always been there. A landmark when she was lost. A sentinel in the night. It's flashing lights a comfort - a beckoning to home.

She closed her eyes as it toppled. The main feature of the city skyline tumbled down in a cascade of concrete and steel. She moaned as she realized that it hadn't fallen towards the lake, but the tons of concrete and steel had crashed northward, probably into the fashion district near Spadina. Probably on purpose.

Her tears began to fall again as she comprehended the staggering loss of life involved in this one act of war among many. The victims wouldn't have survived anyway, but this was small comfort. She would join them soon enough.

It was happening so quickly. She'd heard on the six o'clock news yesterday that this was expected. Rumours of cities simultaneously hit followed by the countryside. Quelling the problems. Eradicating the problems. Burying the problems.

She had thought that this city had seen enough, that there was nothing more that could happen here, but her eyes convinced her that there was so much more. So much more to live for; so much more to die for. She took a deep breath. This was happening the world over. New York. Los Angeles. Mexico. London. Paris. Moscow. Sydney. Tokyo. Beijing. Singapore. Washington. And Toronto.

The loss of life was staggering. She fell to her knees as her legs refused to support her weight. She didn't even know what this war was about. Who was the enemy this time? And millions, perhaps billions of people, gone as though they had never laughed, cried, hated and loved. As though they had never existed. Most not even knowing what they were dying for. Like Kristen.

She slowly rose to her feet again, tears streaming down her face. She didn't want to die. She contemplated the door. She knew she should flee. Run. At least try to escape. At least try and hide. But she couldn't. It wouldn't help. She would be gunned down in the street; she knew that. She returned to the window, helplessly.

The small ants were still pouring out of the buildings into the streets, only to be met with gunfire and death. The ants were now lying motionless far below. She could almost hear each cry of agony as the uncaring bullets ripped apart bone and flesh. She could see the stormtroopers behind their white masks, firing, adding to the mayhem. Small white insects in a sea of red. So much blood. So much unneeded blood. And for what?

She felt the nausea rising but she fought it down, falling back to her knees on the carpet. The thoughts flew through her mind like a mantra. "I will not be sick. I will not be sick."

The rumbles had become nearly constant, the gunfire, the missiles, and the explosives combining as though the fires of hell had descended into this innocent world. Perhaps they had.

Kristen barely heard the hesitant knock at her door. The soft sound melted into the constant beat of the war outside. She had fallen sobbing to the floor, curled up, trying to block out the screams and the rumbling. Kristen looked up fearfully. She had thought that the stormtroopers wouldn't be this far yet. But she'd been wrong about the war not affecting this city. Not that running would have saved her.

Even if she'd run last night. They would have found her. But at least she would have been with Jake, perhaps had a few more days. She calmed her overactive nerves. They had many buildings to search. She forced herself to stop sobbing and lie still. The stormtroopers wouldn't knock.

The knock came again, a little stronger, but not much. This time a small frightened voice floated through a lull in the war raging outside.

"Kristen?" a female voice called quietly.

It took Kristen a moment to understand who it was. She was sure that Janet had gone home. She closed her eyes, wishing that Janet had gone home. Then she wouldn't be here for this. Then she wouldn't have had to die here, too, in this damn office building. At least she'd be with her husband when they came for her.

Kristen forced herself off the floor, pushing on her hands to right herself. She walked slowly to the door and opened it. Janet was standing framed in the doorway, sobbing into her hands, looking like a small, frightened fawn.

"Janet?"

Janet raised her face from her hands, a look of relief radiated across her features despite the tears. She looked awestruck that the door in front of her had even opened. Kristen couldn't remember if Janet had ever used her first name before. Secretaries didn't use given names in this company, though Kristen had fought to change the policy. But all that didn't matter anymore.

"Thank God. I didn't think you'd come out."

Kristen guided the shaking girl into her office and gently shut and locked the door.

"I thought you'd gone home," Kristen spoke to the frightened girl. "I would have come to find you earlier."

Another flash and explosion rattled the windows making both women jump. They ignored the chairs in the room and sat down on the carpet, Janet melting into Kristen's embrace.

Janet sobbed, "I... I wish I had gone home. We're not going home again, are we?"

Kristen slowly shook her head, her blonde curls swishing past Janet's head.

"I'm sorry," Kristen whispered. But she had no idea what she was apologizing for. Being a realist, perhaps.

Janet squirmed out of Kristen's arms and crawled towards the window.

"Don't look," Kristen whispered.

Janet pressed her forehead to the glass, still on her hands and knees, tears beginning to form again in her eyes. "Oh my God," she whispered as her eyes took in the carnage below.

"I know, sweety. I know."

Janet crawled back, lying her head into Kristen's lap. Kristen idly played with Janet's brown hair as she watched the night and the flashes, She listened to the thunder that wasn't thunder. It made no sense.

"I don't want to die," Janet murmured as she rose to her knees.

Hesitantly, she embraced Kristen, pulling her close.

Kristen closed her eyes, trying to forget the sounds of war and whispered back, "I don't either. Believe me, I don't either." She grasped at Janet pulling her tight. She could feel the warmth of her body through her suit, felt her feminine body, Janet's breasts pressing against her own.

Flushed, they released one another. Janet knelt back.

"Can. Can I stay?"

Kristen smiled gently. "Of course. I don't want to be alone either."

"I... I couldn't get a hold of Brad. The phones died."

"I know. Jake. Same thing."

Tears welled up in Kristen's eyes as she again realized that Jake was gone. Gone with everyone else. Gone from her, forever. She hoped that she'd see him again, on the other side. But if God allowed this to happen, she wasn't so sure the other side was much better, if it was even there. And if it was, how was she going to find Jake with so many people there?

She felt Janet touching her face. The soft fingers trailed down her cheeks, gently wiping away the tears. She opened her eyes to see Janet's face so close she could touch her with her tongue if she wanted. She felt herself do it. She wanted to forget so much, it seemed right. Her tongue traced along Janet's soft lips before she could stop it, or even realize what she was doing. Janet kissed her back, tears falling down her face. The touch of her lips felt electric. Tingles raced through Kristen's body. Kristen was surprised that she could feel anything but numbness.

Janet pulled away, only slightly, tears pouring from her eyes.

"They're gone. Aren't they?" she whispered.

Kristen swallowed. She felt it, at least in Jake's case. He was gone, probably in the first wave. If Brad wasn't gone, he would be soon. She'd always been realistic, one of her many faults. Kristen slowly nodded, watching as Janet sobbed, unable to provide her any reassurance. Finally cried out, Janet moved forward and offered her lips again to Kristen. After a moment of hesitation, Kristen kissed her, gently and sensually. The kiss caused more tingles; the tingles felt so much better than the numbness. She could feel Janet's hands on her, pulling gently at her clothing, moaning, and gently crying out.

Thoughts of Jake, and her love for him, flitted through her mind as she fell into Janet's comfort. She knew somewhere that this wasn't quite right; she'd never wanted a woman before. She still loved Jake. But it didn't seem to matter anymore. Nothing did.

She wanted the comfort of another person. Male, female didn't matter. She needed to be held. Didn't want to go through this alone. And Jake wasn't here, and never would be again. The explosions and gunfire were getting closer and her fear was lessening as Janet's hands and lips touched her. Janet had stopped crying, concentrating on Kristen. Kristen could feel Janet's body gently against her, not shaking anymore.

Kristen closed her eyes, feeling the softness of Janet's lips against her own. She felt Janet's fingers tugging at her jacket, playing with the buttons of her blouse between her breasts. She swallowed heavily and let Janet pull the jacket from her. It fell in a crumpled heap beside the kneeling women. In another time, in another place, the crumpled jacket would have bothered her, but she was sure that she wouldn't ever put it on again. Wrinkles or bloodstains didn't much matter.

Kristen felt the cool caresses of Janet's lips against the skin of her chest and the tops of her heaving breasts. She moaned softly into the roar around her, pressing herself into the distraction of Janet's comfort. She felt her hands touching Janet's body as though her hands possessed their own volition, stroking Janet gently through her silk blouse. Her heart rate, already accelerated from the cracks of the guns, sped up further. She was acutely aware of her pulse pounding into her ears, overriding the noise from the street below.

Almost as though her hands belonged to someone else, she watched her fingers pulling at the buttons of Janet's blouse. Her own blouse was sliding softly down her arms. She'd never undressed a grown woman before, nor been undressed by one, other than herself. She couldn't believe she was watching her fingers do it. But she needed to touch that soft skin, hold her, have her. The explosions got nearer. Her breath caught as she thought she heard a rumble from the building beneath her knees. The building stood firm, whatever had hit it, and Kristen let her breath out in a long even flow.

Her fingers hesitated a moment, but her mind screamed that they didn't have much time. Janet rocked back on her heels, her blouse hanging loose around her shoulders, Kristen's fingers having released all the buttons from their entrapment. The blouse tantalizingly concealed her, but Janet's indented belly button peeked out teasingly as the silk parted with her movements.

Slowly, tears in her eyes, Janet rose to her feet, kicking away her high heels. She hesitated, cringing as multiple explosions rocked the street below. It sounded like cars exploding like popcorn, but neither woman looked out the window. With her eyes locked on Kristen, Janet slipped her skirt down her legs.

Kristen, still on her knees, watched as Janet was silhouetted by a bright flash through the night. The rumble washed over the women, making Janet stumble forward. The windows rattled ominously. A thought came unbidden through Kristen's mind. "If the windows break, I can jump." A sense of futility rushed through her mind as she knelt there watching as Janet struggled to return to her task, doing her best to ignore the noise and brutality behind her.

Janet kicked away the skirt, letting it fall beside Kristen's jacket and blouse. In other times, Kristen would have been surprised at the garter belt and stockings gracing Janet's body. It seemed incongruous with her business attire. She could see that Janet also lacked a bra beneath the hanging silk blouse, but she probably already knew that unconsciously from her previous explorations.

Janet's panties slipped gently down her legs, over the stockings. They joined the small pile of clothing beside the desk. Closing her eyes, Janet lowered her shoulders, allowing the silk to flutter to the floor. Another explosion silhouetted her in the window, lighting her bare upthrust breasts in a hot crimson light. She stood quietly, gazing down at Kristen, waiting. Kristen looked at the soft, gentle, nude female above her, so starkly contrasting with the outside world of harshness and pain.

Kristen reached behind, unclasping the hooks of her brassiere with a practiced ease. Taking a deep breath she allowed the material to fall forward off her shoulders. She fought a nearly impossible desire to put the underclothing back on, hide herself. She had always been shy in the gym showers. But a glance at Janet standing tall and unabashedly naked in the muted light convinced her to release the underwear with the rest of her clothing. She willed herself to hold her arms at her sides, allowing Janet to see her, strangely enjoying Janet's silent observation of her body.

She rose to her feet. With her shoes, she was two inches or so taller than Janet. It took a moment for her mind to realize what the discrepancy was. She pushed off her footwear with her toes and stood even with Janet once again. She moved silently into Janet's arms, weeping quietly onto her shoulder. Janet held her, tears of her own falling without care. The women felt more than heard another rumble from deep within the building, their feet tingling with the sensations.

The outside world melted again as Janet touched Kristen's lips with her own. The electric currents of desire flooded through their senses, forcing the terror and the noise to fade into a shadowy mist of touches. Kristen was only aware of her lips and her hardened nipples gently rubbing against Janet's soft skin as she breathed. She could feel Janet's nipples pressing into her skin like small embers from the bombs.

The war again faded into the background, as though it never existed. She felt Janet's fingers urgently pulling at her slacks, releasing the clasp and the zipper in one motion. She allowed the fingers to release her from the material, the light fabric pooling around her ankles. She gasped as she felt Janet's fingers gently pulling the panties from her hips, feeling the cotton sliding down her legs for the last time.

Janet was kneeling easily, indicating with touch for Kristen to join her. Kristen stepped out of her pooled slacks and underclothing, pulling her socks off with her toes. She fell to her knees as another explosion rocked the city. It sounded like something, perhaps one of the factories on Lakeshore, had exploded with the fierceness of the ancient gods.

The women fell into one anothers arms again, pulling their bodies together tightly. The desperation and closeness of the embrace ignited them again. As one, they kissed, lowering themselves to the floor.

Kristen cried out softly as she felt Janet's fingers between her legs, parting her, exploring. She hesitated but felt her own fingers seeking out Janet's breasts, her secret places. Janet was gasping for air, breathing hard and irregularly, pressing her body into the touches, taking and giving the comforts of her body as she could.

When Kristen opened her eyes, she noticed the emergency lights fading like a flashlight with old batteries. They were barely illuminating the room, and within minutes would fade completely. She moaned as she felt yet another rumble vibrate through the floor below her bare back.

She'd never felt an earthquake, but she thought that this just might be what people in California lived with everyday. The light faded as fingers explored, and loved. The flashes and explosions retreated again into oblivion as touch overrode all other sensations and awareness.

Janet's fingers withdrew, and Kristen opened her eyes in confusion, longing for the return of the touch to release her from reality. Her world crashed back into her senses. Janet was crawling towards Kristen's feet. The emergency lights had completely failed, leaving the room lit only by the occasional bright flash and the flickering red of the fires.

Kristen gently spread her legs a bit wider as Janet lay easily between them. Kristen's involuntary scream was a mixture of fear and pleasure as Janet's tongue lightly caressed Kristen's being. Kristen thought she felt fingers entering her, the softness of the tongue finding her swollen center. Stroking. Pumping. Kristen's eyes closed as she struggled to match the unfamiliar rhythms of Janet's love. She strained to concentrate on her rhythms and not those of the irregular explosions from the city, but it was so difficult not to jump at the loud ones.

Jake had known her body in a way that Janet was just discovering. But Janet knew a woman's body. She adapted quickly, finding the rhythms that it had taken Jake months to determine. Tears welled up, but Kristen forced them out of her eyes as she concentrated on ignoring the insane world around her, forgetting about Jake as best she could. Only Janet and her, loving each other in the midst of chaos.

Kristen took another deep breath and held it as she strained to match her rhythm against Janet's fingers and tongue. She rocked her bare body, finding her arousal synchronizing with the intensity of the battles outside, wanting for her climax. Needing her climax.

The trapped air whooshed from Kristen's lungs as she screamed in terror and surprise. Impossibly loud noises close by drilled into her head, so loud that she clapped her hands tightly over her ears. It took her numbed mind a moment to realize that the fire alarm had finally engaged. The sirens and bells penetrated into her senses denying her the release she so desperately needed. So close. She nearly cried again in her frustration.

The world was intent on denying her - intent on destroying her completely. She felt the first drops of the fine mist against her burning skin as the sprinkler system kicked in, soaking both Janet and her. She closed her eyes against the spray, crying out in frustration and adrenaline induced panic.

Janet, surprised and frightened by the fire alarm as well, stopped her ministrations as she, too, screamed. The women's voices almost harmonized with the alarm. Janet threw herself upwards, frantically crawling and lying on top of Kristen as the water descended around them like a cold April shower.

Janet desperately kissed Kristen, trying to ignore the icy water and the terror, desperately trying to make it all disappear. In awe, Kristen realized that the alarm and the water did nothing to diminish her arousal.

Kristen could taste herself on Janet's lips. Her own taste, vivid on Janet's lips, intensified her arousal. She had never tasted herself before, not even with Jake. She felt herself throb, and she moaned into Janet's kissing mouth.

Crying and kissing, the women waited, pressing together and shivering. At last, the falling water stopped, the internal building water pressure spent. With a last loud tone and a crackle, the fire alarm silenced. The city was eerily silent, only her own pounding heartbeat and Janet's laboured breathing registered on her frightened brain.

With a single gunshot, far below, the explosions began again. She couldn't tell where they were -- where people were dying now -- but it wasn't as close. She took a breath and touched Janet's bare, wet shoulder. In her life, so long ago, she would never have imagined that she'd be lying in her office, making frantic love to a woman, nor making the suggestion that was imprinted on her mind. Janet's head hung like an angel's above Kristen's eyes.

Janet's soaked hair plastered to her head and dripped onto Kristen's bare body forming small beads of translucent, flickering red water on her heaving breasts. Almost in relief that they were still alive, Janet gently laughed. It seemed cruelly out of place with the explosions and the slowly dripping water and the agonized screams, but Kristen felt it as well. Her belly convulsed and she found herself laughing despite herself.

"I was so damn close," Kristen whispered.

Janet simply laughed harder but still gently. "The world hates us, Kristen. The world hates us."

At last the giggles subsided and the women melted back into a gentle kiss.

"Sixty-nine?" Kristen hesitated, but made her suggestion in a whisper. She couldn't believe that her mouth had formed the words. She had never suggested it to Jake. They had just done it.

Janet merely nodded and adjusted her position. Janet's sex glistened above Kristen, the icy water and Janet's own wetness joining together to emphasize her arousal. Both women shivered as the dampness evaporated from their skin. Goosebumps formed in the worst places, Kristen realized as she reached up to gently pull the other woman to her. She could feel the tiny bumps rising on her bare breasts, and could see them gracing Janet's thighs. Her nipples felt tighter than she could ever remember.

The discomfort of their shower faded into the background with the bombs and the war as Janet's tongue and fingers again found Kristen's center. Janet squirmed and gasped above her, as Kristen touched another woman with her tongue for the first and last time. The taste was exquisite and she lost herself into the sensations from the light explorations she was making with her mouth. She lost herself in Janet.

Unconsciously, she could hear the war getting closer. The explosions were getting stronger, and louder; less time between the flashes of light and the rumbles. She had to concentrate more on the woman above her to block them out. She thought she could feel another more ominous vibration below her, through the floor, but she wasn't sure if it was her shivering, or her lover, or something worse.

She could feel Janet pressing against her caresses, finding her rhythm. The women were moaning together, finding the same rhythm, driving through the chaos, desperately searching for peace. Simultaneously, both women held their breaths, both struggling to experience their unique climaxes.

Dimly, Kristen was aware of a larger, brighter flash of light, brighter than the fireworks that she normally saw when she orgasmed. The explosion of noise was almost instantaneous and deafening. The windows imploded inwards as the women crashed through their climaxes, showering their soft skin with tiny flecks of tempered, tinted glass.

The women screamed as their bodies strained against their muscles, arching, feeling the pleasure and pain wash over them.

Slowly, Janet moved her body from Kristen, small cuts covering her, bright red leaking slowly from a few tiny cuts from the shattered glass. The room was brighter now. The flickering light became stronger as if the fires had moved closer. As Janet lay beside Kristen, they kissed gently.

The carnage, the screaming, the pops of the guns were much closer now that the windows no longer protected them. Kristen noted with tears in her eyes that the TD center had been gutted. It hadn't collapsed, yet, but fire and flashes of explosions were constant from the building across the street. There were no windows in the blackened structure, and she doubted if her building had any windows left either.

Strange, irrelevant thoughts flickered through her mind. Did a missile or bomb hit the TD center? Either way, it just as easily could have been her building. She didn't know if it was a blessing or another torment that they'd been spared. The smoke from the outside world was billowing into her office through the broken glass, choking the women and stinging their eyes.

She allowed herself to hug Janet, afraid to move because of the glass and their unprotected skin. They didn't need to move. Their bodies pressed gently together, embracing, gently kissing, stroking soft, still damp skin.

Kristen dimly heard the gunshots, realizing that they weren't only from the street below. Somewhere, down the hall, someone screamed and then horribly silenced.

She looked around, fear beginning to surface in her belly again. She could feel Janet shaking beside her, gently crying. Praying. She fought against the panic rising in her being.

"We can go through the window," Kristen whispered to her lover quietly.

She felt Janet shake her head, still sobbing into her bare breasts. "I... I can't, Kristen. I'm sorry. I'd like to be here with you. As long as I can."

Kristen kissed Janet's wet cheek one last time and lay her own head back, feeling the grit of the glass under her damp hair. She wasn't sure if she could force herself to jump anyway. A strange sense of calm returned to her as she held Janet.

Kristen heard the doorknob rattle and she held her breath. She closed her eyes, hugging Janet closer, crying out involuntarily as the door crashed open. A white boot tinged with red and Janet's fine brown hair as she kissed the top of her head, were the last things she would ever see.

"We beat them," Kristen whispered to Janet.

END