Smog and the Salv and other tales
David L. Cox
© Copyright August 2011
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I want to give special thanks to David Scott Aubrey for his review of the manuscript and his valuable criticisms. I also want to thank Robyn Roberts-Cox for her patient editing of these stories. I am truly blessed.
Smog and the Salv
I took my eyes off of the first faint glimmer of skyline for a moment and glanced down at the pressure gauge on the oxygen cylinder in my belt pack. A good two hours left. Ever since the big methane hydrate blow-off in the world’s oceans a decade ago, and the unfortunate eruption of several Indonesian volcanoes that occurred shortly thereafter, it had been hard to see any discernable horizon.
At dawn, the sky that outlined the low mountains, still shrouded in purple nightclothes, merely began to lighten with a diffuse orange glow, and even at high noon, the orb of the sun was a murky yellow eye peeking through the smoldering vault overhead. The empty wastes of the Nevada desert magnified the effect, and the monotonous cycle of pseudo night and day sapped my spirit. But, today would be different. The space-junk forecaster on the NASA channel had issued a reentry alert; a large debris field was going to materialize near here, and I was excited.