Paradigm (9781909490406) by Ceri A. Lowe Page A

she said. ‘What is beyond the Deadlands?’ The room went very quiet and Carter looked at the professor.
    â€˜Another good question, Isabella,’ she said. ‘Does anyone else know the answer to this?’ A thick silence fell across the room.
    â€˜Monsters,’ shouted someone from the front and the classroom burst into laughter.
    â€˜Thank you,’ she said, ‘but not exactly. We know that there are still areas that have been subject to significant contamination and there could be anything there. In the early days, when the second generation of Scouts went out into the Deadlands, we found out that the threats exist as far as the sea. But we were never able to get that far on foot—the terrain is extremely dangerous, which is why we keep our Community barricaded at all times. As you know,’ she glanced briefly at Carter, ‘due to security issues we have currently suspended all research into those areas. All right, no more questions.’
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    T he film started with the usual broadcast warnings. The voice of the one of the original scouts filtered through the speakers.
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    I n the years since we have been underground, things have changed completely. Many of the buildings are gone, crushed under the forces of the water and withered to dust. The people are gone too—the only creatures I have seen so far are birds overhead west and some wolf-like creatures that have come from the north-east. The wolves are the most dangerous—they attack without provocation. We watch for the signs of when the rain is coming—it’s all we can do. There are patterns.
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    T here was some whispering in the background that Carter couldn’t quite distinguish before the narrator moved on.
    Plant life has flourished; there are trees that have grown through the concrete, and branches with diseased fruit. It’s unrecognisable as the city it was before.
    My name is Alice Davenport and this is the Deadlands.
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    A s the reveries of his Academy days faded, Carter steadied himself against the edge of the shelter and stood upright. He rubbed the spot on his temple where the hailstones had hit him, but there was no blood. The Controller General had warned of dizziness and blurred vision, but this had been more extreme than he had imagined. He swiped into the FreeScreen, watching the colours change over and settle on his details. His name trickled onto his home screen, along with his address and connection information. The words bulged in and out with the after effects of the drugs; reading felt difficult and the words made no sense. His head hurt and his heart beat faster.
    N ame : Carter C. Warren
    Address: 47 Drummond Row, Unity Square district, West Quarter
    Status: Released from Catacombs [15 year tenure Year 67-82]
    Reproduction Status: Positive
    Life Status: Active, Confirmed Contender
    Industry Rank: Contender, Controller General Position
    Industry Mentor: Lilith McDermott
    Immediate Family: Parents (Nikolas & Jacinta Warren), deceased (Year 62)
    Brother (Silas Warren), unborn deceased (Year 62)
    Grandfather (Milton Warren), deceased (Year 82)
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    A s he stood there in the fading light, his eyes filled slowly with thick tears and his throat hurt. The one remaining thread of family he cared about was gone and he hadn’t been able to come back soon enough to say goodbye. He had died this year—how long had it been? Carter swallowed hard to blink back the tears. The old man who had stayed up late at night helping him with homework, who had spent hours with Professor Mendoza planning his grandson’s career and had arranged additional tuition, was gone.
    Carter ran his finger gently over the old man’s name on the terminal and held on tightly to the side of the shelter for support. As his finger traced through the letters, the screen scrolled upwards and what he saw next almost made him sick. His heart pounded and his legs shook. Underneath his grandfather’s name