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"Science fiction operates a little bit like science itself, in principle. You've got thousands of people exploring ideas, putting forth their own hypotheses. Most of them are dead wrong; a few stand the test of time; everything looks kind of quaint in hind"
- Peter Watts
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| Time Dingbat | ||
| Nickname for a time machine; used for a kind of WPA-like program for the past. |
This novel starts off at a run, and maintains its pace throughout. It's too convoluted to summarize; suffice it to say that a group of people who are effectively immortal help and support each other whenever they can.
| I was headed for Herb Wells' hideout. He's perfected a technique for reclaiming gold [from seawater] (which nobody wants these plastic days) and is schlepping ingots back into the past with a demented time-dingbat which is why the Group has nicknamed him H.G. Wells. Herb is making gifts of gold to characters like Van Gogh and Mozart, trying to keep them healthy, wealthy and wise so they'll create more goodies for posterity. So far it's never worked. No Son of Don Giovanni. Not even The Don Meets Dracula.
I sat down in the insane machine which looks like a praying mantis. Herb handed me an ingot. "I was just going to give this to Thomas Chatterton." "The kid poet?" "Committed suicide in 1770, greatly regretted. Arsenic. He was out of bread and out of hope." Herb did things with calibrations and switches and there was a crackle of french-fried power (which I'll bet he never pays for) and I was sitting in a mudpuddle in the rain and a George Washington type on a chestnut horse nearly rode me down and bawled hell out of me for obstructing a public road. |
| Technovelgy from The Computer Connection,
by Alfred Bester. Published by Berkeley Publishing in 1974 Additional resources -
|
Brunner also anticipates the latest census data listing Hispanic as the largest minority group in the country. The novel takes place in Mexiforn, USA, an amalgam of California and parts of northern Mexico.
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'You couldn't have the capstone without the pyramid to hold it up.'
'the unobtrusive inspections with tiny remote-cast snoopers...'
I'm hoping that this procedure becomes a normal part of medical practice!
'... nothing was perfected until M. Pantalon announced the completion of his automatic valet.'
'...its streets were of remarkable width, with few or no buildings so high as mosques, churches, State-offices, or palaces in Tellurian cities.'
'...it was all composed of tiny, identical cubes, carefully laid to form a tilelike surface.'
