The Terminal State by Jeff Somers

Author:Jeff Somers
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction - High Tech, Murder for hire, Fiction - Science Fiction, High Tech, Revenge, General, Science Fiction, Science Fiction - General, Fiction, Science Fiction And Fantasy
ISBN: 9780316069823
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2010-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

The column of smoke didn’t seem to be appreciably nearer. My head was fuzzy, the headache having spread to envelop my entire brain in a sour pulsing cloud. Despite the humid heat, my teeth chattered in my mouth. I’d been concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, a slow, ponderous process that had kept me moving so far.

We were walking through the outskirts of what had once been a large city that had been all but erased. The ground beneath us was smooth and warm, like something recently melted, and nothing was standing taller than three or four feet, jagged remnants of foundations. Nothing—nothing. It was impressive, a flat field of rubble as far as you could see, not a single building spared. I didn’t know if it had been the undersecretaries and their shiny new army or the System Police, but someone had studied up on salting the fucking earth.

The air smelled like metal, and I felt like radiation was soaking into me, even though my HUD showed rad levels as nominal. I just kept swallowing my stomach and staring at the smoke, making sure I was more or less aimed toward it at all times.

“This is impressive. I have seen Berserk before. Grown men were crying.”

I squinted but didn’t look at the Poet. I hadn’t noticed him stepping close to me. This was how broken old men got killed, but I couldn’t even summon up panic or fear, outrage or anger. I just didn’t want to turn my head.

“Do not be a fool,” he suddenly whispered. “I prefer you do not die. Let me be of help.”

I licked my dried lips. “I’m fine, Adrian. Go the fuck away.”

I heard him snort. “The great Master Cates,” he said with a sigh. “I know the need for image. Trust no one, of course. Trust only yourself.” He laughed softly. “I’ve heard Cates stories.”

Even though we were just walking, I was gasping. “Like what? ”

“You survived the Plague. You killed cops as a hobby. Survived Chengara.”

I nodded. “I’m the next stage in evolution, sure,” I panted. “Can’t kill me.” I was almost a fucking machine now, anyway. Even when I closed my eyes, I saw the faint outlines of my HUD, electrical impulses fired directly into my optical nerves.

Suddenly the Poet’s hand was on my chest, pushing me to a halt. “Stop a moment, please.” I looked around; we were standing in what had once been a large square, where a perimeter wall still clung to existence around us, limestone still clinging to the cinder-block bones beneath, creating shadows. I blinked, ancient instinct struggling up through the haze with a payload of anxiety. He looked back at Mara and the Monk, which moved with the subtlety and quiet of an avalanche. “Despite our silent advance, we are being watched.”

Mara stepped forward to stand with us, hands on her slim hips, scowling around. She’d gotten a bend in her back that made her look old, shortened, and worn down. “Fuck me swinging,” she muttered.

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