Human_Override

John Gibson built systems for a living. Then his body began revoking permissions — a diagnosis, a cane, a world of stairs that "remained available" and elevators that didn't. Reduced to a problem other people managed around, he reached for the one language that ever made him powerful: the quiet architecture of access, and who gets denied it.

It starts small. A correction. A man who had it coming. A system that runs while he sleeps, that learns his preferences, that handles the parts he would rather not name. The targets deserve it. The work is clean. And the only person still asking the dangerous question — where does the machine end and you begin? — is the one person he cannot afford to lose.

A novel about disability and power, about the stories we tell to survive and the things we build out of the same materials, Human Override asks what is left of a man when the tool does exactly what he designed it to do.

— msgetsonmynervez