DEAD BUT DREAMING OF ELECTRIC SHEEP

Horror writer Tremblay shifts gears for a provocative exercise in postmodern SF.

Julia Flang is a young San Fernando Valley slacker unmotivated enough to do the Dude proud, and indeed The Big Lebowski is her favorite movie. It’s another old movie, though, that gives her the code name for the lucrative task her Big Tech mogul of an estranged mother assigns her: Weekend at Bernie’s. Julia’s Bernie is an employee who’s fallen into a coma and, now “mostly dead,” has been fitted with “proprietary technology” that can get him to a lab on the other side of the country; Julia, a pro-level video gamer, has just the joystick chops to steer him, zombielike, via remote control, through airports and down city streets. A shroud of secrecy and paranoia surrounds Bernie, and for good reason: A journalist who waylays Julia raises the prospect that while Bernie—who has a real name, as Julia learns—may prove an interesting case study in the workings of consciousness, it’s also entirely possible that the corporation has more nefarious designs (“Is it a huge leap,” our journalist asks, “to think weapons contractors wouldn’t be dreaming about remote-control soldiers?”). Though Julia is given to falling back on bits of Coen brothers dialogue—“Lotta strands to keep in old Duder’s head”—in times of stress, she’s not without inner resources. Neither, it turns out, is Bernie, who, while not exactly having a mind of his own, “a robot wearing the permeable armor of failing human flesh,” certainly proves a package that’s hard to handle. It all makes for an entertaining shaggy dog, or maybe shaggy sheep, tale, though it won’t come as a surprise that Tremblay ends it all on a nicely gory note.

A smart and smart-alecky tale of technology put to bad ends by bad people.