The Illusory Prophet by Susan Kaye Quinn

Author:Susan Kaye Quinn [Quinn, Susan Kaye]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Dystopian, Genetic Engineering, Teen & Young Adult, Metaphysical & Visionary, Science Fiction, singularity, robots, nanites, cyberpunk, spirituality, young adult
ISBN: 1539389928
Amazon: B01M7PSE6D
Published: 2016-10-13T07:00:00+00:00

The transport ships land, and Cyrus is floated out on a maglev stretcher.

He’s not moving. I was by his side moments ago… did he die when I left? My chest is so tight, I can’t get any air.

The jivs rush his stretcher across the broken concrete, running at ascender speed on their augmented legs. I stand back from the door to the shops, and they sail inside the building, but the half dozen jivs pushing his maglev keep me from getting a good look. They zip past the cubicles and machines, heading for the med shops. As I watch them go, I realize they’re still working on him—trying to keep him breathing or staunch the blood or something. Tristan sprints after them, still gripping the wound on his arm and shouting orders. Medical orders.

Cyrus is still alive.

A gush of relief makes my head feel like it’s floating.

“Let’s go.” Kamali’s hand is on my arm, shaking me out of my shock.

Basha is already running ahead. Nathaniel’s waiting for me. My brain finally kicks in and orders my legs to move. We join the flow of people—some from the ships, some waiting to meet the returning warriors—toward the electric-white med pod. More stretchers shoot past at augmented speed, but most of the jivs are stumbling along, the uninjured helping those who are bloodied but can still walk. The jumble of humanity gains mass, other Makers joining in, checking for loved ones, reuniting with brief hugs, but still moving forward. When Kamali and I arrive at the med pod, it’s already packed with people. More crowd in, shouting at the med techs to help their loved ones, as if they don’t already know what to do.

The Makers’ medical technology is more advanced than anything I’ve seen on the human side… but it’s still human technology. No med bots or ascender tech.

I shove my way through the crowd, working past the other four stretchers that have been stationed at med bays. A flurry of med techs attends to them.

It’s bad—really bad.

The jiv on the first stretcher moans but is quickly given something for the pain, making the sound fade. I can’t help looking at the second stretcher as I pass—there’s no way he’s still alive. The light-burned hole in his midsection sickly reminds me of the Dalai Lama. Another object lesson in the vulnerability of the human body delivered by another merciless sentry at another time.

I keep going.

The rest of the assault team is up and moving—some with wounds so heinous, I’m not sure how they’re standing. They all seem hyped. Maybe some drug is animating them. I fight my way through the jittery warriors and past the other two stretchers of wounded jivs, finally remembering to shift into the fugue so I can peer through the sea of living flames to see Cyrus.

He’s moving now, plus I can see his vibrant fugue form—half hooded jacket, half ragged legacy wear—which keeps my panic at bay but makes me work harder to reach his side. Kamali and Nathaniel trail behind me.

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