[Writer, b. 1948, Conway, South Carolina, lives in Vancouver, Canada.]
Don’t look at the idoru’s face. She is not flesh; she is information. She is the tip of an iceberg, no, an Antarctica, of information.
Case turned his head and looked up into Wage’s face. It was a tanned and forgettable mask. The eyes were vatgrown sea-green Nikon transplants. Wage wore a suit of gunmetal silk and a simple bracelet of platinum on either wrist. (1984)