In the tradition of Coma and The Andromeda Strain comes the ultimate biological terror... A Depriver is someone who, for reasons still under scientific investigation, possesses and employs a defense mechanism that can drastically incapacitate other human beings. They are prohibited by law from touching anyone due to the inherent adverse effects of their touch. Some people, unfortunately, don't know they're Deprivers. Therefore, a brush with someone on a bus could have life-threatening consequences. If you have come into direct physical contact with a person suffering from this syndrome, you can be deprived of sight, sound, touch, taste, smell, memory, pain, balance, or sense of direction...indefinitely. The Touch documents over twenty cases of Deprivers Syndrome outbreaks which will keep you in suspense until the final shocking page.
The Touch
and over one million other books are available for Amazon Kindle. Learn more
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
Browse the best books of summer including blockbusters, beach reads, and editors' picks in our Summer Reading Store. |
Book Description
Editorial Reviews
From Publishers Weekly
Just the idea for this original anthology is intriguingDto tell the tale of a worldwide disease that causes its victims to temporarily deprive anyone they touch of one or more of their senses. Combine this premise with stinging, mournful, pointed writing of consistently high quality, from Linda K. Wright's "The Penitent" to William F. Nolan's "Freak," and what results is a provocative book sure to attract attention. An opening health advisory warns of the dangers of contact with "Deprivers." The stories that follow chart the epidemic from first discovery to the point that it has become a part of everyday life and has profoundly changed the world (not always in the most obvious ways). Depriver syndrome alienates its victims from all human contact, turning them into unwitting murderers and villains. Several tales explore the power of a Depriver to punish victims when they're forced to harm others against their wills. Many explore the horror of isolation and profound fear of approaching strangers. Each contributorDamong them Katherine Dunn, Harry Turtledove, Sean Stewart, Tananarive Due and Janet AsimovDtakes a different approach to the subject. The cumulative effect is profound and frighteningly possible. The late Edward Gorey supplies two interior illustrations. (Nov.) FYI: Profits from this title will go to HEAL (Health Education AIDS Liaison) and F.A.C.T. (Foundation for Advancement in Cancer Therapy).
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
THE PENITENT
Linda K. Wright
When Gerald Williams called and asked me to meet him at the El Station at 48th and Market at three in the morning, I didn't give it much thought. I'm a city newspaper reporter and I'm used to getting calls in the middle of the night. I don't sleep well, anyway. The meeting was in the heart of what they call a rough area, but I'd grown up in one equally rough. You had your share of people who helped you and you had your share of assholes. What neighborhood doesn't?
They also said it was where people went to score drugs big-time. I'd had what people call a "substance abuse" problem and, truth be told, the neighborhood in which I was meeting Gerald wasn't either the best or the cheapest place to score. "They" really should check their facts.
But, if I met Gerald, I'd find out what had happened to Donna Kate.
Donna Kate Williams had reigned as the lead dancer for years with New York's Alvin Ailey Dance Company. She'd taken over from the legendary Judith Jamison and given Black teens -- male and female -- another role model. When she wasn't touring the world with the company, she was speaking before civic associations, classes in high schools, everywhere, providing the message that people should pursue their dreams, regardless of the obstacles. After Donna Kate retired, she'd come back to Philly, her hometown, and founded her own modem dance studio. She wanted to teach the next generation of dance stars and preach the gospel of getting what you wanted.
This woman who had achieved her own dream and earned everyone's acclaim for doing so, had recently disappeared from public view, amid a huge scandal involving the death of her protégé. She'd been lambasted by the press, the girl's parents, and the community that had so worshiped her. For several months, she had refused to talk to anybody.
Now her husband, who had gone into seclusion with her, had resurfaced. He said Donna Kate wanted to talk to me, and warned me not to tell anyone about the meeting.
I didn't tell anyone where I was going. That didn't mean I didn't leave some word in my tiny apartment, in case I didn't return. I had to make sure people could trust me -- up to the point where I could trust them.
I met Gerald at the El stop. The last time I'd seen him had been at some ritzy charity ball, this Black man poured into a tuxedo, looking really fine. But now he looked haggard; some of the polish was off. He didn't take the hand I offered.
"Thanks for coming," he said, his voice still wonderfully deep. He looked around, watchfully. "If you'll get inside, we'll be on our way." He waved toward the dark car almost hidden in the shadows of the El Station. I got inside. He didn't even open the car door for me. He waited till I'd fastened my seat belt and drove off. I gave him a minute, then started asking questions, but he told me I should wait and talk to Donna Kate.
Had Donna Kate pushed her protégé -- Lisa was her name -- too hard? That was the question everyone was asking. It had been rumored that Lisa had started to slip in her performances before she'd died . Had she started taking
drugs? Did Donna Kate know something about it? Donna Kate had never gone in for drugs herself (not that anyone knew), but she was part of that artistic world. They did whatever it took to sustain their artistic reigns. It wouldn't be the first time a star had tried to manipulate a protégé.
I had my information from the press reports and the investigating I'd done on my own. But I also had Beverly, the twelve-year-old I'd adopted as a Little Sister. Having helped to raise my own four younger brothers and sisters, I couldn't seem to get away from raising somebody. Beverly's foster parents had enrolled her in Donna Kate's Dance Studio to help curb some of her anger. Beverly had loved it. Every time she and I had gotten together, she couldn't wait to tell me about all the new steps she'd learned and how excited everyone was for Lisa. If Lisa made it, they could, too. After Lisa's death, with the resulting publicity over unanswered questions, the Studio had shut down. Beverly became very quiet.
Lisa had jumped off the top of the Donna Kate Dance Studio. Why such a violent statement? The rumors were everywhere; but the police couldn't prove anything and they had to let it go. They had more pressing cases, with more promising leads.
Lisa's parents were inconsolable. Their grief had turned to anger. They told any reporter who would listen (and I'd been one of them) that famous people were always using children. You thought they cared, that they wanted to give back, but they didn't. They just wanted to use the children, stand on their backs. What recourse did hurting parents have?
Gerald Williams led the way inside the clean but rundown building. It had a fire escape, providing a quick exit if the press or the police got too close. You could just jump from the fire escape to the next building. I'd done it in the building where we had lived when I was growing up. But if I had noticed it, so would others. Donna Kate wouldn't jeté very far.
We climbed the steps to the third and top floor in silence. Gerald opened one of the doors on the left and motioned. He didn't follow as I stepped inside. I heard the door click behind me.
The woman I saw stretching her leg at the makeshift barre along one wall could have been the model for any dance magazine photo -- she had been. From her bent-over position, she murmured, "Just a minute." Donna Kate took a deep breath as she lifted up, moving her leg off the barre. It was the middle of the night and this woman was warming up.
She grabbed the towel hanging over the end of the barre and draped it around her neck, then waved her hand toward the solitary chair in a comer of the room and started flexing her foot back and forth.
"I know this is an inconvenience. Thank you for coming," she said, all business. I looked at this tall, thin woman who'd become a pariah -- her braided hair pulled back and her hands behind her.
"I'm glad your husband called me," I said. "How are you doing?"
"I asked Gerald to contact you because you have a reputation around the city. You aren't the first to jump on anyone's bandwagon -- either for or against."
I watched as she kept flexing her foot.
"So, what happened?" I asked, getting to the point.
"Lisa Jenkins was my star pupil," Donna Kate answered, just as directly. "She had a phenomenal talent." She gave me a look. "I know you and others outside the arts see us as full of hyperbole, but Lisa really had it. She could execute a flawless -- ." Donna Kate stopped herself. "I wouldn't knowingly be a part of hurting that child. Why would I?" I saw tears in her eyes. "She was following in my footsteps. We took every spare minute to practice together." She looked down at the floor.
I tugged her back.
"You created a piece specifically for her?" Beverly had told me how Lisa had been practicing a special dance. The other students had talked of nothing else.
"Yes." Donna Kate shivered then composed herself.
"Yes, I did," she said in a stronger voice. "I created my best work for her-in the tradition of the spiritual. It is called The Penitent. The Company in New York was sponsoring a competition and this piece, properly done, had everything that the true admirer of the dance would appreciate." Donna Kate whispered fiercely. "And Lisa could do it."
I sat and watched as she lost herself again in the telling, half-walking, half-dancing across the floor.
"The Penitent comes before God and her dance is a plea for forgiveness. She has willfully committed many sins and knows that only God can grant her the forgiveness that she seeks.
"There was one day we practiced that was particularly intense. We were working on the part just before th
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images? |
Customer Reviews
Share your thoughts with other customers
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
By A Customer
Format:Paperback
What a cool book! The world of Deprivers Syndrome is 100% believable, and the stories that Altman and Merla have collected here are all page-turners. The possibilites for this are endless... I hope that someone takes advantage of it! I'd love to read more. Anyone who likes the X-Files should pick up this book asap. Lots of fun!
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
This is a very unique collection of short stories built around a theme created by Staven-Elliot Altman. Some important writers such as Harry Turtledove, Kit Reed, Tananarive Due, and William F. Nolan, along with plenty of up-and-comers in speculative fiction and horror, have done great things with Altman's backdrop – a disease called Depriver Syndrome in which the sufferers are prohibited by law from touching other people. This is surely an allegory for AIDS and other real-life epidemics in which the innocent sufferers have been made into hateful outcasts by social ignorance and paranoia. With the exception of Janet Asimov's corny and hyperbolic sci-fi contribution (which also breaks the continuity built by the editors), the stories here are uniformly stirring and haunting, as the writers explore different aspects of the disease and its effects, both personal and social. Interestingly, only a few tackle the crushing loneliness a Depriver would feel during a lifetime of not being allowed to touch other people. Many of the stories explore the widespread paranoia that could result in an under-informed and discriminatory society, surely based on the AIDS crisis. Meanwhile several of the most stirring stories look at non-Deprivers who wish to contract the syndrome for anti-establishmentarian thrills or for personal fulfillment. There are also a few stories about Deprivers spreading their disease on purpose, as a means of revenge or extortion, revealing many uncomfortable aspects of human nature. This is a great collection of short stories that really live up to the haunting and disturbing theme created by Altman. [~doomsdayer520~]
