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303 pages, Paperback
First published March 19, 2019
With no one left to serve, no roles left to supplant, what else existed for these machines to do but go on mining the Earth’s resources and making each other? It was the triumph of narcissism. It was a doom spiral. It was the worst vestiges of human nature imprinted on to them.
A large city in total darkness except for white-hot patches of things burning, encircled by a vast, unbroken line of streetlamps and car headlights. It’s as if some regretful god has draped a circle of black cloth upon the place, lest they accidentally look at it. Dead motorways and lightless high-rises, shadows only hinting at infrastructure. Everything shorn of civilising lines and angles.But too often it felt like the author writing to write something flowery and literary sounding.