Mutation (Remnants, 5)
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Caught in the bowels of their strange new world, Mo' Steel and Billy Weir encounter a lost Remnant, Kubric DiSalvo. But Kubric has been horribly changed. The ship has transformed him, replacing his skin with a transparent plastic coating. Scared and awed by the ship's vicious power, the group tries to rejoin their friends.
But the other Remnants are in danger, too, in another stratum of the ship. Yago and Jobs are stuck in a computer-generated sea battle, and can't agree on any kind of strategy. Cannons are blasting and pieces of the ship splinter all around them.
Mo' Steel's group does reach the others, but not in time to help...until Billy mysteriously communicates with the ship's powerful core. But will his strange past help him to understand-or even control-the ship in time?
can a machine go crazy?" Mo'Steel asked. "Very, very slowly," Billy said. By the time they got Alberto up and moving again, Mo'Steel was in one sorry mood. Grumpy, impatient, ticked off. He'd had more than enough of walking across this dull plain of a basement. He wanted to do something normal — like board the Constitution and make like a rigging rat. If only he could find some way up! He was about ready to try clicking his heels together and saying, "There's no place like home." The distant
the power grid. He was instantly and intensely aware of every cell in his body. It was like watching a billion different plasma screens simultaneously. He could see every one of his own cells like illustrations in a bio data chip. Jangles of nerve cells like twisted tree roots. Long, skinny muscle cells. Millions of boring blocklike skin cells. Delicate brain cells pulsating with energy and looking like some fern's drawing of a snowflake. Solid, strong-looking molecules that had to be the
others to think he was concerned about each and every one of them. Too bad he had no clue how to save them. And he had another worry: Tamara and the baby, the one remaining threat to his power. Jobs came up the ladder from belowdecks and hurried toward Yago. "The bailing isn't helping," he said."Time for the lifeboats." "Of course it's time for the lifeboats," Yago said irritably, annoyed that Jobs seemed to think he hadn't thought of that. "Everyone to the lifeboats!" he shouted out. "Jobs,
found himself standing in a bleak city square. In front of him was a building of gray concrete, maybe ten stories tall. All of the windows were blown out. Salt water from his clothes dripped onto rubble. Small shards of jagged concrete. Ripped and stained pieces of Sheetrock. Rusty nails. A pink sofa, overturned, curved legs sticking up. A smashed-open refrigerator with chicken bones, lettuce, and beets spilling out and rotting in the sun. Jobs coughed and gagged. He covered his mouth and nose
very expensive Nikes and reading a battered copy of My Antonio. A drop of the soldier's blood splattered the kid's shoes. Behind the kid, the line stretched on. The lunch rush. A weird mix of suburban kids and bloody soldiers sporting a variety of raw flesh wounds, wearing tall hats and heavy capes. 2Face was shaking. "Here you go," Ivan said, pushing a tray her way. "Enjoy your meal. Thank you for visiting McDonald's." "Thanks," IFace said, relieved she didn't have to pay. She forced herself to