The Falcons dressing room went silent as Brad entered. The players looked on, wide-eyed at the bloodstains on his sweater, pants, and socks. His helme..., visor, and cheek also showed smears of blood. Feeling queasy, he hurried to the washroom and immediately threw up in the toilet.“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” He yelled, pounding his fist on the wall in frustration with Pete’s injury.He returned to the main room, his teammates looking at him. “Holy shit, man! What you did was something else!” Dale. It could have been anything. A dust storm. A swarm of insects. Even a mirage. It had no discernable shape and behaved with no apparent purpose. If it had been blown up by the wind, this would have been strange enough. It was a very still day and the meteorological reports gave no indication that anything other than the mildest breeze could be expected. This cloud had a similar ethereal glow to that of domestic nanobots before they settled down to their household chores. Dorothy had her own. More

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