DRINKING SAPPHIRE WINE (Special Edition)Four-BEE was an Utopian city. If you didn't mind being taken care of all your long long life, having a wild time as a “jang" teenager, able to do anything you wanted from killing yourself innumerable times, changing bodies, changing sex, and raising perpetual hell, it could be heaven. But for one inhabitant there was always something askew. He/she had tried everything and yet the taste always soured. And then he/she succeeded in committing the one illegal act—and was thrown out of heaven forever. But forever is not a term any native of that robotic utopia understood. And so he/she challenged the rules, declared independence, and set out to prove that a human was still smarter than the cleverest and most protective robot... You don’t need to have read Tanith Lee's DON’T BITE THE SUN, which set the original scene, to find DRINKING SAPPHIRE WINE of the same high merit that distinguished this author’s THE BIRTHGRAVE. |
From inside the book
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... eye to eye, after which he strode out into the morning, whistling one of the current Jang favorites: “I only want to have love with you, for you are so derisann.” About twenty robots and Q-Rs, of various descriptions but unanimously ...
... eye on you. You remember that business before. I haven't forgotten. Neither has the Committee, you can be sure of that.” And then, glowing her cat's eyes at me, “We'll get married for mid-vrek, and you can come and live at home with me ...
... eye on me. She would signal me in the center of night, and wake me out of deep slumber, and ask: “How are you?” She would arrive in her safe pink bird-plane at all the least convenient hours of sunlight, and say: “Are you sure ...
... eyes, were conjured three-dimensionally on the history walls from long-ago drawings of a vanished intellectual world. All these beings traditionally died young—of ancient, unheard-of diseases of the lungs, at sea, in battles, in burning ...
... eyes like raw gold, skin like polished brass, and dressed to kill in see-through patterned with gold daggers, and with a brazen skull—of all antique masterpieces—grinning on her groin shield. “I must say,” she said, “you're looking pale ...