by Colleen Anderson
The layering of nanobytes into his hypodermis laced Nirved’s nerves with lava. The pain muffled him. The nanotechnologist paused.
“No,” Nirved grunted. “Continue.”
The protective barrier had been set. Planting came next.
Large swaths of jungle lay barren, plants crisping under the sun’s inferno. Trees toppled throughout countries, and oxygen thinned. People died with the trees.
At best, this experiment could save the world. At worst, Nirved would die before Earth did.
Colleen Anderson writes fiction and poetry, and her works have appeared in such publications as Polu Texni, Pulp Horror Book of Phobias, On Spec, and Cemetery Dance. A Body of Work was published by Black Shuck Books. She lives in Vancouver, BC, where she watches for mermaids and mould monsters.