Space Rep: Are they going to blow everything up?
Liza: I don't think so, but this is my future dystopian banner.
Space Rep: Well, let's check out the cover. That should be more telling.
After the Convergence is a sweet,
slightly dystopian detective romance set in the near future. Shortly after “the
convergence” or emergence of seriously intelligent computers.
This
is from near the middle of the story. The hero, Alan Blake, after escaping from
an isolated trailer in the middle of the desert, has run into an old flame of
his at the truck charging station where he was working/snooping around. He’d
just discovered a smuggling operation, and she’d come to pick up an agent who
was being smuggled. Unfortunately only his body arrived, rather badly
decomposed.
“There’s
this drifter, came in on one of the trucks. He’s shuttling tractors because
we’re short. Floyd! Where are you?”
“Can
you describe him?”
“Medium
height, brown hair, highly sunburned, weedy sort of man. Showed up on a
northbound truck this morning.”
Teresa
laughed. Then she walked to the next tractor and knocked on the hood, “Alright
Alan, I know you’re in there. Open up, or I’ll use my persuader on you.”
I
pulled the internal release and after the hood opened, stood up.
“Hi
Teresa. Long time no see.”
Teresa
took me to a motel. She shoved me in the room, made me disrobe and said, “Get
washed, ‘Floyd.’ Between your days in the desert and that body you shifted for
me, you’re rank.” Then she took my clothes and locked the door. “I’ll be back
with clean things for you.”
A
few hours later she returned. She threw me a few things, obviously from a
second-hand shop, and said, “Get dressed.” After I had complied, she continued,
“Hold me!”
“What?”
“Hold
me or I’ll gut you.”
Strong
female hands grabbed me and forced me into an embrace.
“Teresa?
What the Hell? I thought you didn’t like men in general and me in specific.”
She
gulped, swallowing something. “Hold me, damn you.”
“Fine.”
I mean she was a woman after all, and it had been too long since I last held
one this close. I might not have had another chance, the way things were going.
She
writhed and squirmed, pawed at me, moaned and shivered. If I didn’t know
better, I’d have thought we were going at it. Then she stopped. Pushing me
away, she said, “Thank you.”
“For
what?”
“Red
pill.”
I
asked, “Red pill, what’s that?”
“You
really are an innocent Alan, aren’t you? I needed a man I could trust not to
take advantage of me while I swapped back.”
“Swapped
back?”
“It
doesn’t work for everyone, but it’s the standard treatment for sexual deviancy
in the People’s Republic.”
“What?”
“The
red pill. Take it, grab someone of the appropriate sex, and you’ll like that
gender when it takes effect. Wears off after a while, and you return to normal,
but it can be effective.”
“You
and ‘Heather’?”
“She
was an exile. The pill didn’t work on her, so her parents sent her North. She
had a stack of pills so she could keep trying. Don’t blame her parents, it was
either that or a re-education camp. At least she’d be alive as an exile. We
were both lonely so I thought ‘What the heck’ and gave it a try. Fun while it
lasted.”
“While
we’re chatting. Did you kill her?”
Teresa
was quiet, then said, “No. I did love that bitch, you know.”
“Any
idea of who did?”
“PRT
assassin. When she joined the Free State Militia, she became a traitor in their
eyes.”
“Was
it true what you said about her and Guezman?”
She
sniffed, “Guezman had the goods on her. Made her help him. He’s playing both
sides of this game.”
“Decidedly
unhealthy that, I suppose. What about Paul?”
“Your
partner?”
“Yes.”
“No
idea, could be them. To be honest could have been one of ours or anyone.”
“The
other case I’m working on is Sarah Gonzales.”
“PRT
have her. One of their experiments.”
Space Rep: That sounds interesting! Do you have a buy link?
Liza: Hold on. I'm not the lackey. That's your role.
Space Rep: I've grown up since I left. But I'll go find the link. Here it is.
Amelia Grace Treader is an
author of (mostly) historical romances, with the occasional science fiction
romance thrown in for good measure. Based near Atlanta, she writes a unique
combination of romance and action. She enjoys reading history, science fiction,
and historical romance. While a child of the American South, she's also an
Anglophile and not unfamiliar with the south of England. They're more alike
than you know - There's even a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop in the Oracle in
Reading, and they're just as good as in Kennesaw.
Despite the descriptive name
of romance as “bodice rippers,” Amelia tends to write more in the sweet style
of "bodice unbuttoners" where the romance is there but not explicit.
After all, a good quality bodice was expensive, and only a cad or puppy would
damage it. It's also more consistent with the behavioral conventions that were
in place at the time.
Sounds like an interesting read. I hope that the computers are good. Too often the computers take over and try to harm the humans!
ReplyDeleteThis is very true, but only because they logically determine Humans are the problem. lol
ReplyDelete