by Alex Scarrow
Among the many fragments of consciousness that had once been human beings, this particular intelligence cluster had a guest staying with it for now. A recent addition to its library, a complete recreation of a consciousness. For the very first time, it had established a direct link with this intelligent species at a chemical level. The language it understood best. Someone from whom it could learn so much. The guest had a veritable treasure trove of data to share: images, sounds, smells, thoughts, feelings, things that this entity called ‘memories’.
The guest entity also had a name . . . Grace. Talking to Grace was difficult. She was only just beginning to comprehend this biochemical language.
[. . . presently experiencing high levels of {>€#€€#^#€€}-substance in your {#%^>€$>€>}-cluster. Explain to us the high presence of chemical. Is this what you refer to as ‘emotional state’? . . .]
He burned me. He killed me.
[. . . ‘killed’, accessing your definition . . .]
[. . . ‘killed’ is ‘permanent cell deconstruction’? . . .]
Yes . . . he killed me.
[. . . you are no longer in ‘killed’ configuration, Grace . . .]
[. . . you are now REMADE . . .]
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alex Scarrow used to be a rock guitarist. After ten years in various unsuccessful bands he ended up working in the computer games industry as a lead games designer. He now has his own games development company, Grrr Games. He is the author of the bestselling and award-winning TimeRiders series, which has been sold into over thirty foreign territories. He lives in East Anglia and is currently working on the sequel to REMADE.
Visit his website at www.AlexScarrow.com
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A big thank you to my agent, Veronique, and my editor, Venetia. The former for helping me keep my sanity, the latter for rewarding my insanity and encouraging me to dig deep.
The inspiration for REMADE came in part from a film I saw when I was very young (too young probably). It was a 1950s Hong Kong B-movie called The H-Man. One image from that movie was permanently burned into my nightmares: the sight of a bundle of clothes spread out on the ground and viscous liquid bubbling from the trouser legs and shirt cuffs. Liquid that used to be a human being. I can’t remember the story . . . it probably wasn’t great, but that particular image stayed with me.
It just goes to show that nothing in life is wasted. No experience, no smell, no vague half-recalled memory. We writers are sensual magpies. We hoard what we see, hear and smell . . . and from those things we produce stories like these. I hope, dear reader, that I cause you some sleepless nights . . . and I hope (for the budding writers out there) that forty years from now you’ll ‘magpie’ a grisly moment from these pages.
If you enjoyed
here’s an extract from the sequel, coming soon . . .
He watched a cop across the other side of the road. A minute ago he’d been waving pedestrians inside into various corporate foyers. Now he was on his knees, swaying like a drunkard and staring at the pinking skin of his hands. The other cops were looking up at the artificial snow, batting the flakes away from their faces. The infected officer had flopped over on to his side, his good hand clawing at the other glistening pink one.
Tom and Kirsten both watched as he began to pull some flesh away from his hand, trying to brush away the flakes. It came off far too easily, like casserole beef from a T-bone steak. Blood streamed down his forearm, tendons hung from the bones of his hand in tired, swinging loops.
A few yards further down the street, where a woman had collapsed earlier, the process seemed far more advanced. Under the woman’s now stained clothes her previously bulky frame had reduced and dark trickles of liquid seemed to be fanning out beneath her . . .
First published 2016 by Macmillan Children’s Books
This electronic edition published 2016 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
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ISBN 978-1-5098-1121-2
Copyright © Alex Scarrow 2016
Cover illustration by James Fraser
The right of Alex Scarrow to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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