Take the most sophisticated A.I. designed mind that has ever existed, encase it in over fifty million cubic kilometres of diamond nano-rods and send it off on a twenty-thousand-year odyssey towards the centre of the galaxy. Then screw it all up by allowing thirty-two million humans to go along for the ride...
From the Publisher
Slabscape : Reset is the first of a series of webbacks - paperbacks that are backed up by an online encyclopaedia of definitions, back-stories, explanations and complete irrelevancies. This resource is freely available and will seriously dice with your head.
Reset is either a fast-paced mixture of satire and hard-core science fiction that explores the boundary of human weaknesses and aspirations or one very elaborate joke. We can't decide.
From the Back Cover
Louie Drago had been born into a broken world during the closing decade of the twentieth century, in what later became the upper-eastern googopolis of the North American continent.
Despite, or maybe because of the fact that he was short and had very few redeeming features, he'd lived an intense and sybaritic life. Married three times and divorced twice, his last wife, twenty years his junior, had run off with his mistress's son when he was sixty-four.
He'd worked hard and played even harder. By the time he was seventy-five he was pornographically wealthy, had travelled to everywhere on Earth he'd had any desire to visit, had experienced as many risky and thrilling experiences as he could reasonably endure and had variously drunk, eaten or inhaled more legal, semi-legal or wildly illegal substances than even his robust constitution could tolerate. He'd been there, seen it and done it and stubbornly refused to buy any t-shirts, postcards or anything that would ever require dusting. He was also terminally bored.
They were building a spaceship. A huge interstellar spaceship. They needed two things; young, healthy volunteers and a lot of money. He bought himself a guaranteed place, but as the ship wouldn't be ready to leave for another thirty years and Louie had serious doubts about living that long, he developed an elaborate plan. On his eightieth birthday he signed a fiendishly complicated agreement, completed the downloading of his entire personality into an interactive long term storage system, had one of those parties that people talked about for years afterwards, and while the Bacchanalian festivities were at their peak, had himself ceremonially placed into cryonic suspension.
There's a small problem with cryonics. If a body has been frozen for more than a hundred years, when the subject is revived, they have no memories at all. Nothing. Three hundred and sixty years later, when medical science had advanced sufficiently so that every single stipulation of the original contract (except one) had been fulfilled, the long and painful process of unfreezing the considerably altered body of the entity previously known as Louis Clinton Drago began.
From the Publisher
Slabscape : Reset is the first of a series of webbacks - paperbacks that are backed up by an online encyclopaedia of definitions, back-stories, explanations and complete irrelevancies. This resource is freely available and will seriously dice with your head.
Reset is either a fast-paced mixture of satire and hard-core science fiction that explores the boundary of human weaknesses and aspirations or one very elaborate joke. We can't decide.
From the Back Cover
Louie Drago had been born into a broken world during the closing decade of the twentieth century, in what later became the upper-eastern googopolis of the North American continent.
Despite, or maybe because of the fact that he was short and had very few redeeming features, he'd lived an intense and sybaritic life. Married three times and divorced twice, his last wife, twenty years his junior, had run off with his mistress's son when he was sixty-four.
He'd worked hard and played even harder. By the time he was seventy-five he was pornographically wealthy, had travelled to everywhere on Earth he'd had any desire to visit, had experienced as many risky and thrilling experiences as he could reasonably endure and had variously drunk, eaten or inhaled more legal, semi-legal or wildly illegal substances than even his robust constitution could tolerate. He'd been there, seen it and done it and stubbornly refused to buy any t-shirts, postcards or anything that would ever require dusting. He was also terminally bored.
They were building a spaceship. A huge interstellar spaceship. They needed two things; young, healthy volunteers and a lot of money. He bought himself a guaranteed place, but as the ship wouldn't be ready to leave for another thirty years and Louie had serious doubts about living that long, he developed an elaborate plan. On his eightieth birthday he signed a fiendishly complicated agreement, completed the downloading of his entire personality into an interactive long term storage system, had one of those parties that people talked about for years afterwards, and while the Bacchanalian festivities were at their peak, had himself ceremonially placed into cryonic suspension.
There's a small problem with cryonics. If a body has been frozen for more than a hundred years, when the subject is revived, they have no memories at all. Nothing. Three hundred and sixty years later, when medical science had advanced sufficiently so that every single stipulation of the original contract (except one) had been fulfilled, the long and painful process of unfreezing the considerably altered body of the entity previously known as Louis Clinton Drago began.
