Dystechnica (eBook, ePUB)
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Discover worlds where the wealthy travel near light speed to retain their youth, a man trades a time traveler's memories for freedom, and the joy of uncertainty is crushed by an app that monitors expressions. In these stories, disruptive technologies collide with human fallibility, and the future they create isn't the one we were promised.From 'Regret':This was the last hour he'd be Jay, and as he paced back and forth on the platform, he rubbed the square lump behind his ear, feeling the edges of the chip that had been nestled there since his decision. Trading a few miserable memories to avoid...
Discover worlds where the wealthy travel near light speed to retain their youth, a man trades a time traveler's memories for freedom, and the joy of uncertainty is crushed by an app that monitors expressions. In these stories, disruptive technologies collide with human fallibility, and the future they create isn't the one we were promised.
From 'Regret':
This was the last hour he'd be Jay, and as he paced back and forth on the platform, he rubbed the square lump behind his ear, feeling the edges of the chip that had been nestled there since his decision. Trading a few miserable memories to avoid prison was an easy choice at the time, but now that he wanted to trade back, it was too late.
From 'Forget Something?':
You were standing at the windows of the fortieth floor, staring down at a city taking its last breath, when a high-pitched voice pierced the murmur of the crowd. "Seriously? How can you have lost it?" Her tone was pleading, the words driven by an underlying panic, but you stifled the temptation to turn around. There was no time for distractions; in half an hour, the crisp order of Seattle's grid would collapse into the chaos of the jittery video that had brought you here.
From 'Regret':
This was the last hour he'd be Jay, and as he paced back and forth on the platform, he rubbed the square lump behind his ear, feeling the edges of the chip that had been nestled there since his decision. Trading a few miserable memories to avoid prison was an easy choice at the time, but now that he wanted to trade back, it was too late.
From 'Forget Something?':
You were standing at the windows of the fortieth floor, staring down at a city taking its last breath, when a high-pitched voice pierced the murmur of the crowd. "Seriously? How can you have lost it?" Her tone was pleading, the words driven by an underlying panic, but you stifled the temptation to turn around. There was no time for distractions; in half an hour, the crisp order of Seattle's grid would collapse into the chaos of the jittery video that had brought you here.
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