David Simpson - Post-Human Trilogy

“The Purists? Who the hell are the Purists?”

“Of course! The Purists! Don’t you remember learning about them in school?” Old-timer asked Rich. “School? Old-timer, I don’t know how you do it! School was way too long ago for me to remember anything about it.”

“The Purists are thousands of people who live offline. They inhabit the area around here and live off the land,” Djanet explained.

“Whoa…what do you mean, they ‘live offline’?”

“We never hear about them, but they’ve existed for a long time. We’re taught that they are an abomination in school,” Djanet continued.

Rich was flabbergasted. He turned to Old-timer, then back to Djanet with a look of utter astonishment. “What do you mean, they ‘live off the land’? Like animals?”

“And they die like animals,” Thel interjected.

“What?”

“They let themselves die,” Thel informed him.

“That’s sick! I must’ve blocked this out! I don’t remember learning a thing about this in school.”

“They eat flesh too,” Old-timer pointed out, smiling. He couldn’t resist. He thought fondly of the last real New York steak he’d eaten, more than half a century earlier.

Rich was silent for a moment, but it was evident he was trying to speak as his lips formed multiple shapes, each in preparation for a word that didn’t seem to do the moment justice and was summarily abandoned. “Oh my God! And why are we here?”

“I’d guess we’re here to see if any of them survived and get us some help, is that right, Commander?” Djanet asked James.

“That’s the plan,” James replied, his voice getting weaker by the moment.

“Help from them ?” Rich exclaimed. “They sound worse than those bat things! If we find any of them, they’ll probably eat us!”

“They don’t eat human flesh. Just animal,” Thel responded.

“Why? What’s the difference between human and animal flesh?” Rich asked desperately.

“I don’t know,” Thel shrugged.

“Just be glad you’re not a cow,” Old-timer said, patting Rich on the shoulder as he floated past him and over to James’s side.

“What’s a cow?” Rich asked, his question directed to no one in particular.

“It looks like the A.I. has wiped these people out, James.”

“There might be survivors. We’ll have to look. The city’s inaccessible right now, but we should have a look at the areas to the north. There may be sources of food…” James let his words trail off as his eyes became heavy, the color suddenly emptying from his cheeks.

“James?” Thel reacted, seeing his distress right before he lost consciousness and began to fall toward the ground below. Thel didn’t allow him to fall far, however. Just as James had done for her earlier, she dropped down quickly and matched his speed, grabbing hold of him by hooking her arm in his.

Old-timer reached him almost as quickly and helped her stabilize him. “I’ll take him. It’s okay,” she said to Old-timer as she cradled James against her.

James opened his eyes and said in a soft groan, “Thel.”

“It’s time for me to help you now.” She turned to Rich and Old-timer and asked them to help her get him onto her back. Then she took the lead. “Okay, you heard the plan. We’re going to head north of the city and see what’s there. Keep your eyes peeled for any people or sources of food.”

“Somehow I don’t think she means a replicator,” Rich whispered to Djanet before the five members of the Venusian terraforming project ignited their magnetic fields and headed north.

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.

The wasteland’s air rippled with the percussion of the blast and washed over them in a tidal wave of death.

Djanet had saved them. At the last moment, she had seen the surface-to-air missile approaching them out of the corner of her eye. She had turned and instinctively generated a protective magnetic field that sheltered her and her companions from a direct hit that would have been fatal for all of them. She had gone down on one knee and looked up in the direction of where the missile had come and followed the cotton-smoke trail to where three darkly dressed figures were scrambling down a small hill and toward a jet-black ridge.

“What the hell was that?” Old-timer reacted, still holding his hands over his ears as the explosion continued to echo softly in the distance.

“People!” Djanet shouted. “I’m going after them!” she announced, already in the air and about to ignite her magnetic field. She streaked toward their assailants before the others were even aware of what was happening.

“Follow her!” Thel shouted as Old-timer and Rich lifted off and bolted after her. Thel held James’s face close to hers and whispered into his ear, “You were right. There are people here, James. We’re going to find you a doctor. Just hold on, my baby.”