TOMORROWVILLE

In Isaak’s posthumous SF novel, an accident victim, awakened from decades of suspended animation, confronts a United States that has become a corporate-run police state.

Isaak contributes to a well-known SF subgenre known as the “sleeper wakes” plot. The hero is 33-year-old California IT professional Toby Simmons. The author of numerous computer-program and technology patents, Toby has a promising career ahead of him. But he accidentally falls from a balcony while distracted by an enticingly naked neighbor, and his severe cranial and spinal injuries lead Simmons’ parents to cryonically preserve him. Miraculously, 80 years later, Toby is one of very few “cryonauts” with the lucky metabolic circumstances to be successfully revived and healed. But 2088 U.S. is unrecognizable in some ways and all too familiar in others. Wonders include hologram movies whose narratives change in response to audience stimuli and cosmetic surgery that makes almost everyone attractive (and the sex outstanding). But media is still celebrity-obsessed trash, and a minority of the superrich controls America’s stagnant economy, which, under feckless politicians, has made no progress in space exploration or much else worthwhile. Even Toby’s software skills and hacking tricks have not fallen far behind. Toby quickly surmises the cause of the country’s decline: Early-2000s pathologies, like overzealous law enforcement and privatization of government, have metastasized and made the once-free country into a China-like capitalist/fascist dictatorship, brimming with public controls and constant surveillance. Many American citizens face arrests, punitive fines, and confiscation of all property for sham offenses like “sedition,” “hate speech,” or “child pornography” (or simply being fat) and wind up in forced labor camps. As in Brave New World (1932), drugs are virtually mandated to keep society pacified and obedient. Toby, owing millions in medical bills to the state, is no criminal—yet. But he must figure out how to navigate this tomorrow while he still has novelty value and marketability as an unfrozen human commodity. Otherwise, he’ll become enslaved or need to escape the fortified borders to the outside world (a world which, understandably, regards the United States with loathing).

As in many sleeper-wakes yarns, there are op-ed lessons to be imparted via the glimpse into the future. For those who like to keep score of such things, the author lays blame on George W. Bush–era Republicans for setting in motion this dismal treadmill to dystopia, though much of the finger-pointing is toward government overreach and human failings (corporate fascism, police power, privacy invasion, ignorance, and greed) rather than individuals. And, when we meet the rebel-underground resistance, they come off more like dogma-yelling twits than sensible heroes. A trim page count, semisatirical wit (the Marx Brothers get an acknowledgment), and, yes, some really hot sex helps hold interest throughout. Readers should be well invested by the ending, which is more ambiguous than conclusive. Alas, sequels are not to be. A loving introduction is by Pamela Blake, the author’s widow (and high school sweetheart), who shepherded this narrative into print, along with several other novels in different genres, after Isaak’s death from cancer.

A cautionary tale of a cruel, authoritarian America of the future that’s leavened by barbed wit and irreverence.