Extinct Doesn't Mean Forever by Phoenix Sullivan (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

He rummaged through the storage lockers. None of the environmental suits were made to fit his slight physique, but he did find a length of cord. He tied one end around his waist and the other to the cryotank. When he was confident the future of the Oshen was secured to his body, he stepped into the airlock and sealed the door behind him.

Silence enveloped Indigo. Flashing lights warned of the peril as the time ticked away. The ship vibrated from the forces buffeting it. Through the airlock window, Indigo could see even more red lights blinking in alarm. Fog replaced the smoke in the corridor as the fire suppression system fought for the ship’s survival.

The chronometer beeped again and the Drifting Star plunged into the mesosphere. Indigo clasped the handle of the airlock door and took a deep breath. Howling wind filled the airlock as the outer door slid open. He squinted his eyes against the bright blue light. In the distance, the sea waited for him. He released his grip and was sucked out of the airlock to meet his destiny.

~~~

Arms and legs held tightly against his body to minimize wind resistance, Indigo’s free-fall accelerated. The cryotank, still secured to his waist, trailed behind him. The cold wind whipped mercilessly at his body. He continued the countdown in his mind. Above him, the Drifting Star would be carrying out his final commands.

The ship would pull up sharply, as if bouncing off the atmosphere, and all repair sub-systems would go offline. The Fringe warship would have a clear shot at its target as soon as the Drifting Star cleared the turbulence. With the damage his ship had already sustained, it wouldn’t take much of a hit to complete their mission.

The ticks leapt by. He worried that his plan had failed, that the Fringe had seen through the ruse and would at any moment unleash their devastating firepower on the world below.

The explosion that rang out left Indigo’s ears ringing and singed his skin. The blast sent him tumbling end-over-end as the remains of the Drifting Star shot streaks of fire across the sky. Indigo continued to fall, helpless and out of control. His arms and legs flailed wildly, trying to stabilize him body. His eyes, painfully dry, no longer had the ability to focus, but what he could see below was vast and blue and getting closer.

Numb fingers fumbled with the cord around his waist and reeled the cryotank close to his body. He caressed it as he worked the controls from memory, activating the device. The thaw sequence would begin as soon as it was submerged. The gyroscope would keep the container on its course as its micro-engine propelled it to the deepest abyss it could locate. Soon, life would begin anew.

When we leap, sometimes we fall. Indigo understood this, as he believed the former occupants of this world must have too. Driven by an inexplicable curiosity and a desire to know the unknown, both races had explored beyond their boundaries. They left the place they called home and reached out to what lay beyond.

In time, perhaps, when the new generation of Oshen stepped out of the waters of their adopted world, they would look to the night sky and feel the same ambition to reach the stars. Might that they touch the moon and discover the legacy left behind by the race of Human and know for certain that they were not alone.

Indigo’s descent ended abruptly. Warm water washed over his broken body, and for the last time a smile spread across his face.

~~~

ADAM ISRAEL, after having lived and worked in Chicago, New York City and Los Angeles, expatriated to southwest Ontario, Canada, with his wife, three dogs and three cats. He attended SFWA Grand Master James Gunn’s short fiction workshop in 2007 and Clarion in 2010. When not writing, Adam is a freelance software engineer, consultant and blogger. His fiction has appeared in several venues online and off, including Crossed Genres.

Website: http://www.adamisrael.com/

Website: http://www.inkpunks.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AdamIsrael

When his pampered world loses the technology it depends on, extinction looms faster than lonely survivor Levo could ever have expected.

BLOOD FRUIT

by Shona Snowden

Most people died the first night. When the electricity went out, the StayClosed doors and windows did exactly what they were supposed to do. I don’t know how long people lasted in their sealed units without the recirculating air. I guess most were sleeping. Like my family. I hope they were sleeping real deep and never knew a thing about it.

Anybody who was awake figured out what was happening. They had long enough to batter against their StayClosed doors and windows. Long enough to ram them with chairs, tables, anything they had to hand. We saw that afterwards, as we wandered through the empty streets. People and their belongings all smushed up against the windows.Shattered furniture, broken kitchen implements, bleeding fists and crushed feet.

And the faces pressed up against the glass, purple and swollen like overripe Jufruits. People’s faces pressed so hard up against the glass, like they had been trying to breathe through it — like they believed they could, if they just pushed hard enough. Some had pushed so hard their skin had burst open, coating the glass with red slime, all splattered and oozing. Everywhere we walked, we saw bulging eyes through the windows. Empty, but still kind of pleading.

So I hope my family were sleeping real deep. I never went to see. Vin wanted to, though. That first day, with his arms full of candy he’d just swept off the shelves of the store we were looting, he was all keen to check it out. “Don’cha wanna know, Levo? See that fat Meshie-eating father of yours all squished against the window like a big Jufruit? Mama trying to bite through it with those shiny Bleach-O-Dent teeth all smashed up? Phrocking beautiful, mano!”

Vin was a TubalChem baby, so he never