Sublime

Short-lived people, people who could die, did not know what enemies loneliness and boredom could be.

He slapped his hip and it made an odd sound. ‘Got wounded and it turned out that I had a rare disorder of the lymphatic system, can’t regenerate. Nothing but metal and plastic from the waist down. To use your word, I’m a cyborg.’ Far out, as my mother used to say. ‘Oh, Private,’ I called to the waiter, ‘bring me one of those Antares things.’ Sittin

The gaunt, white-skinned figure with a bruised forehead standing awkwardly in an over-large business suit looked totally unconvincing, like a discharged convict in his release suit blinking at the unfamiliar daylight after a long prison-sentence.

John Harrison’s The Centauri Device,

indelible.

Which are you? he asked the silver squiggle. Dark dead yin or brilliant living yang?

We know that he used psychometrics as plot devices in some of his novels, including the Voight-Kampff Empathy Test in Do Androids Dream of Electric