Extraits

Chapter 1

(...)

He couldn’t tell without a microscope. The fact that the carrier fluid still glowed was a good sign. The nanotech machines wouldn’t glow if they weren’t also digging. He had programmed them that way.

Once, a lifetime ago, he produced the machines from a nanotechnological experiment that he never thought would succeed—but it did. He created functioning devices the size of gnats, and he programmed them to perform a few simple functions. He encapsulated the tiny machines in a tiny vial of silver and had the vial placed on his person, where it would always be with him. The dentist had balked at taking out a perfectly healthy molar to replace it with the silver vial, but a brick of twenty-dollar bills convinced him to do the deed.

The vial was intended to remain with him even after an intense search by law enforcement, and the nanotech machines were intended to be used to free him from a prison cell. Now his prison cell was the earth itself, and the nanotech machines had been put to work to perform a function for which they were not designed.

Chapter 2

His name was Remo and he had lately developed this thing about people who didn’t get the recognition they deserved.

“I got maps of the Walk of Fame,” said a street corner punk with crusty hair.

“I’m only looking for one star,” Remo said.

“You’ll never find it without a map,” the punk insisted. “Just five bucks.”

Remo considered it, then handed over a five. He was back a minute later.

“Hey, this map’s no good,” he told the punk. “It doesn’t show the star for Alan Hale Jr.”

“Sure does.”

“Show me.”

The punk rolled his eyes and snatched Remo’s five-dollar map of Hollywood, flinging it open and stabbing one finger at the pages.

“Right there.”

Remo looked at the spot the punk pointed at. “Can’t be.”

“Can be.”

“It’s almost a side street. I don’t believe it.”

The punk sneered and thrust back the map. “I grew up in Hollywood, dude. I know every inch of the Walk of Fame. That’s where they put Alan Hale Jr.”