<P><B><JC>Rebel Cell</JC>
<P><B><JC>Gelo R. Fleisher</JC>
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<P>Jerrod saw the lurching, marionette bodies of Guardian's drones shuffle about, pipes and chunks of rubble gripped tightly in their hands. They moved in geometric patterns, equally spaced apart, moving in carefully planned circuits through the forest of pipes and shadows; search patterns. Jerrod felt a dark, low voice fill his mind.
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<P>Again you hide from us. Why fight and suffer alone. Join us; there you find harmony and acceptance.
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<P>Jerrod heart was pounding as he sat crouched among the pipes. The pipes were hot, emitting heat, as if boiling water was passing through them, and soon Jerrod could feel his sweating face begin to turn red. He willed himself to stay still, clenching his jaw tightly to keep from making a noise. Instinctively he projected a mental reply. Your idea of harmony doesn't look very pretty.
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<P>The deep voice replied, and Jerrod knew that Guardian could peer into his thoughts.