Dad's question hung in the air heavily as we waited for Joe to answer.
"Five hundred-twenty,"
"Billion? Five-hundred-twenty billion survived?" Dad asked. When no answer came, his voice dropped, "Only Five-hundred-twenty million out of 2 trillion people survived the attack?"
"No."
"Thousand? Joe, tell me it was Five-hundred-twenty thousand at least." Dad pleaded, a desperate note in his voice.
"There were five-hundred-twenty survivors."
"Christ! Joe… and the attackers? How many did they lose?"
"Zero casualties, no equipment damage."
"Damn…" Dad ran out of words at that point.
I didn't have any. So, I just watched the screen. The view took us once around the circumference of the world flying high above the ground. The surface was mostly cities, great sprawling metropolises of metal and glass.
