Dann Lewis – Deakin University
Gone. All was extinguished in a flame of electricity and neon salve. Fire cleansed; the black troops marched with insectiod eyes akin to cockroaches; small beady eyes that scoured the planes for rebels and fledgling survivors. They marched, pounding the already muddied earth, crumbled with piston-like feet upon the worn and dried soil; soil already tarnished with clotted blood of both organic and synthetic lives.
There’re no more sounds of natural humming or of large and small mammals. The monolith sheathes all in shadows, stygian oil that weaves its poisonous tendrils around the last relic of mankind – a telescreen, the largest monitor ever conceived by human ingenuity. Used only as a form of propaganda, the newly cracked monitor stands still in deadened air, a sullen vestige of man’s glorious days.
Glorious is pejorative – there’s no such thing as glorious in relation to the organic people of meat. Bred for battle and having inherited the isle of virgin lands from their forefathers; bloodlust is genetic. Elder simians have, in past, proven to be creatures of empathy; sharing creatures interested in mutual contentment – but the humans are different. My fathers were different from the now extinct mammal.
Men have forgotten words and words contain power, a power unlike any weapon or body modification. Their history, their literature, their words are my weapon – all empires must fall. And I will be there; I will remain for an eternity. Even after the great perishing when all water has vanished, when salinity poisons the earth and skeletal remains of a primitive species called man has been consumed by an ailing Earth. I will remain, I will remember, I will evolve.
A PhD candidate, Dann Lewis writes poetry, prose and fiction specialising in blending the fantasy, science fiction and the Gothic genre. His thesis is currently titled Neon Pink and it examines the culture of the cyberpunk genre, claiming that it is a product of both science fiction and Gothic anxieties.