Biomites are artificial stem cells that can replace any cell in your body. No more kidney failure, no severed spines or blood disease. No cancer. Pharmaceuticals become obsolete. With each dose of biomites, we become stronger, we become smarter and prettier.
We become better.
At what point are we no longer human?
Nix Richards nearly died in a car accident when he was young. Biomites saved his life. Ten years later, he’s not so lucky. The Halfskin Laws decree a human composed of 50% biomites is no longer human. Halfskins have no legal rights and will have their biomites shutdown. It’s not called murder, merely deactivation.
Cali Richards has been Nix’s legal guardian since their parents died. She has lost far too many people in her life to let the government take Nix. She is a nanobiometric engineer and will discover how to hide him. But even brilliance can succumb to the pressure of suffering. And technology can’t cure insanity.
Cali and Nix keep a slippery grip on reality as they elude a maniacal federal agent dedicated to saving humanity from what he calls 'The Biomite Plague'.
Ranked in the top 50 in cyberpunk catergory.
69 reviews, 4.2 stars (Amazon).
YTD, >1000 units sold.
It's the end of time, peeps.
Mark this date, put a black X on your calendar because it's all over, starting today. It used to be that if you didn't like the laws where you lived, you just moved to another state or another country. Freedom existed somewhere in the world. We had a choice. I mean, hell, if you were desperate enough you could live on the South Pole with penguins and shit.
Not anymore.
Today, it's all over.
Today, M0ther was born.
Who's M0ther? Our M0ther. Already got a mother? Now you got two, only this one will know everything about you. You can't hide from her, she'll know when you're full of crap, know where you stash your porn, know when you pick your nose and when you eat it.
You'll hate her, and she'll know that, too.
Case you've been asleep for the last 10 years, the Mitochondria Terraforming Hierarchy of Record is what I'm talking about.
Let's just call her M0ther.
A mother that doesn't bake cookies or wash your underwear. She's not getting up to make you French toast or wipe your nose. Nope. This bitch is going to spy on you until you’re dead. Which may be sooner than you think.
M0ther is somewhere in the frozen plains of Wyoming. No pictures of her exist because no one's allowed to even flyover. But rumors say she's this massive dome, a computer the size of a football stadium, like some artificial brain heaved out of the frozen soil that's wirelessly connected with every biomite in existence.
Did you catch that? EVERY BIOMITE IN EXISTENCE!
Hear that buzzing on your phone? She's listening.
Feel that tickle on your laptop? She knows you're tapping.
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Maria Rosaria Gangale
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Pedro Henrique Leal
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Irsa Araceli Hernández Briceño
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