Virtual Light: A biting tehno-thriller from the multi-million copy bestselling author of Neuromancer

Description

'A stunner . . . a terrifically stylish burst of kick-butt imagination' Entertainment Weekly San Francisco, the nearish future- Ex-cop Berry Rydell's lost one job he didn't much like and landed another he likes even less. Some sunglasses - actually high-end kit involving Virtual Reality and super-sensitive data - were stolen from a courier, and a man named Warbaby's been charged with retrieving them. Warbaby needs a driver and Rydell is the perfect fit. But when the courier is killed and Warbaby gets to work - giving Rydell a taste of what's expected and exactly what's at stake - he has second thoughts. Especially when he comes face to face with Chevette, stealer of sunglasses, who'll land an ex-cop in a heap of trouble . . . 'Studded with crackling insights into the relationship between technology, culture and morality, Virtual Light doesn't miss its stride for a nanosecond' Time Out 'Convincing, frightening, written with a sense of craft, a sense of humour and a sense of the ultimate seriousness of the problems it explores' Chicago Tribune

'Since 1948' Gene Wolfe once said that being an only child whose parents are dead is like being the sole survivor of drowned Atlantis. There was a whole civilization there, an entire continent, but it's gone. And you alone remember. That's my story too, my father having died when I was six, my mother when I was eighteen. Brian Aldiss believes that if you look at the life of any novelist, you'll find an early traumatic break, and mine seems no exception. I was born on the coast of South Carolina, where my parents liked to vacation when there was almost nothing there at all. My father was in some sort of middle management position in a large and growing construction company. They'd built some of the Oak Ridge atomic facilities, and paranoiac legends of 'security' at Oak Ridge were part of our family culture. There was a cigar-box full of strange-looking ID badges he'd worn there. But he'd done well at Oak Ridge, evidently, and so had the company he worked for, and in the postwar South they were busy building entire red brick Levittown-style suburbs. We moved a lot, following these projects, and he was frequently away, scouting for new ones. It was a world of early television, a new Oldsmobile with crazy rocket-ship styling, toys with science fiction themes. Then my father went off on one more business trip. He never came back. He choked on something in a rest

An American Ballard, using the tropes of science fiction to satirical and productively alienating effect * Guardian * One of the first authentic and vital novels of the 21st century * Washington Post on Pattern Recognition * A major novelist who seems to be hitting his peak * Chicago Tribune *