Status Updates From Where the Axe Is Buried

You didn’t need to copy Krotov’s mind. It copied itself. Krotov was fungal. He spread underground, attaching himself to the country’s root systems, trading information for nutrients. Krotov’s mind wasn’t in his skull: it was diffused in the soil. This thing in front of Nikolai called “Krotov” was nothing but a poisonous mushroom pushed up from the forest floor, born of the mycelium of violence woven through the dirt.

"The mandatory feedscreen muttered away, reduced to its lowest legal volume. Onscreen the President shook hands in a white and gold room. On the wall behind him was his portrait. His icon rotated in the corner of the screen."

I don't know if I'll be physically able to read this book.