The Wild Zone...
Dharma Six... In many ways it was like Ryan’s own home world of Mars. Its barren aspect painted in autumnal hues of rust and brown, the wide swings of temperature, the sudden violence of her storms, all reminded him of home. But this virulent jungle, this profusion of life forms tangled one with another—this was something he had never experienced before, not even on earth. The Wild Zone was truly alien to him and, though familiar now, he felt uncomfortable, even here at its thinning edge. Once inside he knew the oppressive airs and vaporous mists of the jungle would surround him again, as if to impose themselves between body and mind, drugging his will and sense of self, and stealing his life in the process.

Ryan was a single thing, stubborn, individual, apart from the whole. He shielded himself with protective masks and clothing, and was laden with tools and equipment to shape the world around him to his own purposes. But the Wild Zone was the world around him now, and it would bear nothing apart from itself. It wanted them all... wanted them lost, forgotten, empty in the weave of its inscrutable pattern. That was the worst part of it, Ryan remembered. He could take on things like the Asects or Lyrpa, tangible focal points for his Tech-Rifle. But the Wild Zone was something more than the sum of its parts. It was like another mind, constantly pressing on his own, whispering and tugging at the edge of his awareness with its persistent murmur.

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