Post-Human Trilogy by David Simpson

Author:David Simpson [Simpson, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: adventure, david simpson, series, trilogy, sub-human, post-human, post-human trilogy, Science Fictio, trans-human
ISBN: 1481874330
Amazon: B00ABV1NO0
Published: 2012-11-21T20:00:00+00:00

2

Although it had begun as a pristine, clear day in Buenos Aires, blue sky could no longer be seen. The late afternoon sun was drowned by the dark gray smoke that hung ominously in the air over the barren terrain north of the city like an autumn fog in a forgotten graveyard.

Thel led the others down for a closer look at the seemingly endless devastation. There was almost nothing left—no trees, no grass, no kind of vegetation of any sort. The soft, rolling hills were dotted with pools of an ash-gray material that resembled soot in some places and sludge in others. Even the soil was nearly blackened. She set down and disengaged her magnetic field, allowing the putrid, lifeless air to swathe her and fill her lungs. She held her hand to her mouth and nose and tried to stifle a cough as the air caught in her throat.

“I thought we just left Mercury,” Rich commented, the words muffled as he, too, held his hands over his mouth and nose.

All five members of the team were standing together now on the wasteland, and Thel tended to James as he leaned against her.

“It’s the nans,” James said weakly. “They’ve destroyed every living thing in the Purist territory.”

“Nothing could have survived this,” Old-timer observed. “They used to call this ‘the gray goo scenario.’ The A.I. has managed to wipe the Purists out too. We really are the last ones,” he said as he turned and surveyed the devastation, his head suddenly light, as though he had been hanging upside down for too long. He found himself struggling just to stay on his feet. “Is anyone else feeling sick all the sudden?”

Rich choked and then vomited where he stood. He doubled over, and Djanet rushed to his aid, putting her hands on his back and shoulder. “We can’t breathe this air for long, Commander,” Djanet asserted. “It’s filled with...death. It’s toxic. There’s no one here anyway.”

James could no longer respond. He slumped to his knees, his breath now a soft wheeze, and leaned his glistening, and pale forehead against Thel’s shoulder.

She looked at her rapidly weakening companion and answered for him. “We’re not leaving. James spoke of underground bunkers built by the Purists, in case they were ever attacked. Someone must have survived. We’ll ignite our magnetic fields and breathe our air supply, but we’re not leaving Purist territory until we need to replenish our air or until we find someone who can help James. Is that agreed?”

Of course no one could refuse. Every one of the Omegas felt genuine affection for the others; they were like a family, and James was both a son and a father to all of them. To Thel, he was even more.

“Until we find a hospital, we’re with you,” Old-timer assented.

But before any of them could ignite their magnetic fields to begin the arduous and seemingly forlorn task of looking for survivors, a white-gold flash as bright as lightning suddenly appeared to their flank, accompanied by a deafening, explosive roar.

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