Chapter 7The moon rose, an evil eye across a blighted land, cursing any who dared procreate, leaving wombs barren and parents' hearts despairing, nanochine-induced infertility spreading like a venereal disease, the engines of creation disseminating their own destruction.
Maris stood on the steps of the Fertility Ministry and looked out over that blighted landscape. Magnacars whined in perpetual servitude on the avenue below him. Wires slashed apart the sky. Buildings moped in the gloaming, lighted windows hinting at suspicious activity within, darkened windows declaring it. Isolated trees punctured holes in the urban landscape, eked out nutrients from earth devoid of nurture, leaves gone pale with airborne toxin. Somewhere a siren wailed, ruing its regret to the unfortunate victims. A fit
