Post-Human Series Books 1-4 by David Simpson Read Free Book Online Page B

HUD suddenly went blank, before briefly turning back on and then going blank once again.
    “Uh, my HUD just went down,” Weddell stated in controlled alarm.
    “Mine too,” Craig replied.
    “We’re all down,” Wilson quickly realized. “We’re gonna have to open high and do it manually!”
    Then, just as suddenly as they had flashed off, the HUDs came back online.
    “I’m back up!” Craig shouted.
    “Is everyone back up?” Wilson shouted.
    Each member of the team confirmed.
    “Okay! Then we stick to the original plan. Adjust to thirty-five degrees!”
    Craig watched the time to opening tick down on his HUD. They were now only a minute away from their computer-controlled low opening. Their speed was slowing, but something didn’t feel right.
    “Commander, have the onboard SOLO systems ever glitched like this before?” Craig asked.
    “No. This is a first,” Wilson replied.
    “Then I recommend we do a high manual—”
    “Cut the chatter, Doc!” Wilson shouted. “Concentrate!”
    The yellow dust covering the ground was closing in below them, its surface gleaming in the sunlight as it crawled like a yellow, living fog. The impact crater into which they were supposed to be touching down wasn’t visible.
    A horrifying possibility suddenly reached into Craig’s skull and drummed its frozen fingers over his brain. The time readout was now below twenty seconds. “Oh no,” he whispered. “I’m taking command!” Craig suddenly shouted, nearly screaming in desperation. “Open your chutes now! Override! Override!”
    “Belay that order!” Commander Wilson shouted back.
    “Override! Override!”
    Ten seconds...
    “Follow protocol, SOLO!” Wilson screamed.
    “The telemetry’s wrong! Open! Open!” Craig bellowed furiously. He opened his chute, the wind catching it hard as it unfurled, tugging him into a dramatic deceleration. The other members of his team fell away into the yellow dust, disappearing as though they’d been figments of his imagination.
    Craig continued to float downward for several seconds, the yellow dust reaching upward to envelop his boots. “SOLO team, do you copy? Commander Wilson? Do you copy?”
    The silence continued for a few seconds more before, finally, Weddell’s voice crackled through the interference. “Doc! Commander Wilson is...he’s dead, sir.”

10
    Craig touched down in a thick yellow cloud of dust. His parachute ejected automatically so he wouldn’t be dragged away into the dust storm. Above, the sun’s rays were nearly visible, suggesting that the dust cloud was abating, as predicted, but for now, he was blinded, with only his HUD to guide him. “Weddell, I’m on your three o’clock,” Craig said, “fifteen meters away.”
    “Copy.”
    The green dot on Craig’s HUD that signified Wilson was also still active, and Weddell’s dot was next to it. Cheng and Klein had vanished. Craig strode in his exoskeleton, only a few steps taking him most of the way to the quickly materializing silhouette of Weddell, leaning over the crumpled form of Wilson. A couple strides more, and the image came into focus, the stark reality of Wilson’s nearly pulverized body emerging.
    “You were right, Doc,” Weddell said as he turned his head to look up at Craig. “The telemetry was all wrong. I played it safe and followed your orders at the last second. My chute opened in time, but I hit the surface hard.” He turned and looked down at his fallen officer-in-charge. “Commander Wilson didn’t even open his chute. He...God, he hit the ground at terminal velocity.” He shook his head. “I saw him hit.”
    Craig dropped to his knees and tried to get a view of Wilson’s face, but the commander had fallen face down, and his helmet had burrowed into an impact crater of its own creation. Craig could read Wilson’s absent vitals on his HUD, so it seemed true that the commander was, indeed, dead. But the SOLO team were super soldiers . “There might still be hope,” Craig