The food’s very good,” I offer defensively. “It’s not that”—she gazes past my shoulder—“it’s the culture. It’s very Californian. I wasn’t expecting the rot to have reached London yet.” “We are Bay Aryans from Berkeley: prepare to be reengineered in an attractive range of colour schemes for your safety and comfort!” “Something like that.” A waitron

Charles Stross

Charles Stross