Earth was dragged out of the solar system by an alien fleet. Three hundred ships, each as large as the Moon, sealed off the sky. A mothership bigger than Earth tugged all of humanity toward the abyss. The Sun was gone. At minus seventy degrees, all they could do was wait to die underground.
But the force field shuddered once every twenty-four hours.
That was all it took for the Chinese to chisel their first breath of warmth out of the Green Dome race's force field, calculate the flaw in its dimensional folding with nothing but chalk, and pry open a crack in the door to an alien civilization with a broken transmitter. The Americans launched a nuke, only for it to bounce back. The Russians welded a survival network at minus sixty degrees. Digital revenants trapped in the gaps between dimensions had waited eight thousand years for someone to knock, while a plasma civilization inside a star was willing to trade its life for one chance at revenge.
Humanity dismantled the Harvesters' game board, built its own starships, and piloted Earth back into the solar system.
