"I think so. And look." Gordy beckoned to the other man and led him to
the very edge of the cleared area. He bent down, picked up something
red and wriggling between his thumb and forefinger.
De Terry took it from his hand. "Another mutation?" He brought
the thing close to his eyes. "It's almost like an ant," he said.
"Except--well, the thorax is all wrong. And it's soft-bodied." He fell
silent, examining the thing.
He said something under his breath, and threw the insect from him.
"You wouldn't have a microscope, I suppose? No--and yet, that thing is
hard to believe. It's an ant, but it doesn't seem to have a tracheal
breathing system at all. It's something different."
"Everything's different," Gordy said. He pointed to a couple of
abandoned rows. "I had carrots there. At least, I thought they were
carrots; when I tried to eat them they made me sick." He sighed
heavily. "Humanity has had its chance, John," he said. "The atomic bomb
wasn't enough; we had to turn everything into a weapon. Even I, I made
a weapon out of something that had nothing to do with war. And our
weapons have blown up in our faces."