By Colin F. Barnes
Humans aren't any longer the most important probability to survival.
In a post-apocalyptic destiny, humanity survives inside of a unmarried domed urban governed via a shadowy employer referred to as The relatives. Gerry Cardle reluctantly runs the dying Lottery. It's a role he despises, but one that retains his identify off the checklist. till someday, regardless of his contract with The kinfolk, his identify is inexplicably drawn next.
With his international crashing down round him and with simply seven days left to dwell, Gerry realises that the procedure has been breached by means of a malicious man made intelligence. as a way to store his lifestyles and look after the protection of these in the urban, he needs to do the unthinkable: flee to the deserted wastelands outdoor the dome.
Bitter, resolute, and with not anything left to lose, Gerry must do no matter what it takes to survive--even if it potential sacrificing his freedom, and doubtless worse--his existence.
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Additional info for Artificial Evil (The Techxorcist, Book 1)
The door was shut. There came a rap from outside. "That will be the luggage, nadi," Tano said, and took a look outside to be absolutely sure before he opened the door. Bren pocketed the message. Write you a letter later. Hell and double hell. He didn't think Toby had anything pleasant to say in his next message. Toby never had made the obvious complaint to him: Give me some help, get home, brother, do something to reason with the government—it's not fair what you're doing to us. It's not fair what you're doing to Mother.
Exactly what Mospheira's government had thought it was sending into the field when it sent one Bren Cameron. But paidhiin had a tendency to mutate on duty. It remained to be seen what the job would do to Jase, but the ship wouldn't get back the bright-eyed and curious young man it had sent down to the world, if that man had ever really existed. He hadn't seen that side of Jase, the Jase that had existed in the voice transmissions from the ship, not since the capsule had landed; and he was, he admitted it, disappointed in the transaction.
Bren felt constrained to ask, now that reason was with them both. "Is there something I can imminently do something about? Or answer? " Jase had been locked in this apartment for six months trying to learn the language, and there'd been moments of frustration at which the monolingual staff, without the experience Jase was going through, could only stare in confusion. There were moments lately when not only the right word wouldn't come, no word would come, in any language. There were moments when, helpless as an infant's brain, the adult mind lost all organization of images and association of words simultaneously, and the mental process became less than three years of age.