With incredibly quick jumps the laughing death zigzagged between the barrage of mini-missile impacts, roaring joviality as the hits just missed their target. The first fly was down, its wings no longer able to support the metal girth of its body. A second fly careened off course, spiraling down towards the desert ground. The fly that had cut the harvester open pulled up and gained altitude quickly. Buzzing left then right, the fly evaded many of the bullets spit forth at it but could not dodge them all. What probably saved me was the fact that I was unconscious when I hit the ground. My body was loose and relaxed and the water that drained before me helped cushion my fall. The water harvester had stopped moving, sensing the damage and automatically releasing nano-knitters to mend the still pouring gash. The fourth and fifth skull-flies had fluttered high just below the cloud line, circling the laughing death in hopes of a crossfire opportunity. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! The