Yet another version of the dystopia that seems to be how we the masses envisage the brave new world that lies ahead. (Coming utopias do not make for gripping fiction, though, do they?) Still, no zombies in this one. Nothing supernatural at all. The setting, Outpost 3, is a walled town – not as in an ancient walled city, but a shanty town with a makeshift wall around it – where life consists of struggling to survive from day to day in a dog-eats-dog environment. That was metaphorical: there are, of course, no dogs left. It is actually a human-eats-rat environment.
What 'law and order' there is consists of immensely strong and fast robots known as 'sentries', left-overs, clearly, from a previous technocratic dictatorship, that respond to stimuli such as the smell of spilt blood. Nobody there understands them, they are just a fact of nature, but everyone fears them, including Matthew, the local gang-leader and most powerful man in the enclave.
When the story opens, the protagonist wakes up knowing only that she has been erased. No name, no memories. It seems that she has been dropped there by some outside organisation, because erasing is not something that happens – that could happen – in Outpost 3. She hears men coming, hides among the rubbish, and listens. She learns that the two goons were expecting her and that she was intended for slavery.
The rest of the book is the tale of her survival in what can only be described as a man-made hell. In the face of the unfaceable, she remains brave and kind, and there are lines – thoughts of hers – I shall always remember. For instance this:
There are things that set us apart. Things that are human. Decent. And humor, alone, is not a qualifying factor. (Reminds me of Shakespeare's "One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.")
Ironically, coming to terms with my impending doom offers me a sweet taste of freedom. I'm going to die makes I might die far less potent.
I enjoyed every word of it and shall certainly be reading the sequels, Evolution, and the forthcoming Eden.