Wetware
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- 4,49 €
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- 4,49 €
Description de l’éditeur
As a programmer for Galapagos Wetware, Hal Briggs is responsible for writing the genetic code for simple, efficient creatures to be employed in menial jobs–sweeping streets or washing dishes. But the demands for “wetware” are changing, and Briggs is given a project that calls for more sophisticated models: clients are demanding more human appearance and behavior.
As the project progresses, Briggs finds himself endowing the new models with more than the specifications dictate, giving them distinct personalities and talents and highly developed acumens. When two of his pet projects, Jack and Kay, escape, Briggs reexamines their codes and makes a terrifying yet provocative discovery.
From Craig Nova, a master of the modern novel, comes a tale eerie in its vision of a future not far off, of a world precariously close to today’s.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In this sincere but uneven SF novel from Nova (The Good Son) set in a gloomy and menacing near future, biotechnology engineer Hal Briggs designs human-like creatures to perform menial or dangerous jobs such as street-cleaning or mining. With demand high, the market is soon clamoring for advanced models with such skills as deceit, manipulation and marksmanship. But Briggs is this brave new world's Pygmalion. In creating perfect prototypes, he gives the woman, Kay, musical genius,, an appetite for love and an appreciation for beauty; on the man, Jack, he bestows qualities of strength and dependability. They could be his future lover and best friend. When the pair escape, Hal's job and life are suddenly both at risk. Jack and Kay stumble about the city like idiot savants, learning how to speak and dress as well as play Chopin and program computers while somberly enjoying their freedom. But what could have been a straightforward, fast-paced tale of pursuit and desire becomes hobbled by a sketchy subplot (concerning a woman embittered by unrequited love), the failure to explain basic realities of this futuristic world (why wearing clothing that's not up-to-date might be life threatening), and recurring doses of sentimentality registered in prose that tends toward the purple (Kay's tears were "the taste of childbirth, of passion, of everything that was so vital one cried in the face of it"). There are gripping moments, though, and Nova's premise that beauty is a vital and life-giving force stands out against the dark backdrop of an ominous, New York like city.
