The Harvest Road used to be the biggest trade route on the planet. They said you could see it from space, but I don’t know if that means much any more. It cut through the equatorial plain all the way from Samphamore to the space-port that serviced Empyric-6/x. Twelve lanes all the way. And out on either side, to the north and south, fields so big you couldn’t see the far boundary. Big irrigation rigs kept the crops watered and fed, and drones did the seeding, but they still let the water-buffalo have free run after the harvest though, like they always done.
Since the war, when the Empyric houses was brought down low, things have changed. The Faazon houses broke through our shields and brought disease to the crops. Black mould that turned healthy green stems sour and soft. The soil was destroyed. All the microbes died. Then everything died, even the water buffalo. There was nothing left for them or us.
Now I cycle down the road, for days sometimes, camping on the median strip at night. You need to wear a filter mask, but when the sun is going down, it’s good to walk on the old concrete, as the sun’s last rays light the dead spores and dust drifting over the road.
One day I reckon I’ll see a green shoot, out on one of the fields, or in one of the cracks in the road.
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Faazon-3/z