AllFictionBooks.com: Unholy Domain is "very much a mix between George Orwell’s 1984 and Philip Dick’s Minority Report."

Unholy Domain: Where Science and Religion Go to War

Reviewd by Stuart Nachbar

Dan Ronco’s Unholy Domain is a science fiction story that is very much a mix between George Orwell’s 1984 and Philip Dick’s Minority Report.

This is a story where an innovative technology has supposedly gone haywire, killing a million people and plunging the world or at least American into economic collapse. Domain’s main character, David Brown, is the son of the developer of PeaceMaker, the technology that started the downward spiral and created a nation (or world—I was not sure from the story) divided between factions for religious leadership—the Natural Humans--and technology. Both have their political capital, and both have their terrorists--or freedom fighters—depending on which side you are on. Members of both factions are about to form an even more powerful order known only as the Domain.

I loved the movie Minority Report, so I was anxious to read Domain, and it did not disappoint. While the author is a technologist himself, he doesn’t get the reader lost in technical and computer jargon; that is often a distraction with similar “intelligent” science fiction novels that assume the reader already knows most of the science before he opens the book. His descriptions of robots and PeaceMaker, the killer app were quick and to the point and made me want to continue reading the story. Domain is quite similar to Minority Report in that Brown has become a fugitive, in this case, a brilliant software developer, whose life has become a mission to avenge the loss of his father, a man he hardly knew in his youth. And, as in Minority Report, the main character unveils a major cover-up; unmasked, it means death to Brown and all who help him. Ronco has also done an excellent job of presenting the all-powerful evil cast of characters who lead the Domain. In the end, we learn that distinctions between good and evil technology rest in the hands of a very small number of deceptive, greedy and powerful individuals.

Novels such as Domain, which are set in a not-too-distant future, are often meant to present warnings about our present. In this story there is more about the deceptions of religious leaders, how they manipulate society at large and, what can potentially happen if such manipulation is unchecked and taken to extremes. We have powerful spiritual leaders in America today, though none ask ordinary citizens to take up arms and become holy warriors; however, religious uprisings have been an important part of world history. Ronco’s fictional Army of God is no less formidable than the military leaders in the Crusades, for example, or the Nazis. There are the same blind loyalties to a charismatic leader that drive the movement to the point where it oversteps its bounds and becomes more like the entities it had set out to destroy.

Domain is more of a political science fiction thriller than a techno-thriller. If you are a sci-fi buff anxious to know the potential and power of computing, you may prefer a more scientific story. But if you want a fresh new story that shows how fear can dominate the direction of a society, and how fear can bend technology to its means, then Domain is a worthy read.

Contact Stuart Nachbar at http://www.EducatedQuest.com , a blog on education politics, policy and technology or read about his first book, The Sex Ed Chronicle, a novel on education and politics in 1980 New Jersey, at http://www.SexEdChronicles.com .

Unholy Domain Praised by Roundtable Reviews

Reviewed By Jeff Cook

Aside from social media, Wikis, the opportunity to juke out and conquer fellow online bidders and loads and loads of videos of funny monkeys, the internet has opened the doors to new opportunities for science fiction writers. With so much of our personal information and lives intertwined with computers and the World Wide Web, a panoply of what-if scenarios have been posited and explored by a new generation of authors that pick up where Asimov and Dick left off.

Dan Ronco is one of them. In his new novel, UNHOLY DOMAIN, Ronco picks up a decade after a compuer virus named Peacemaker has wiped out computers world-wide; the economies of the greatest nations on earth lie in ruins, people face starvation and desperation on a scale unimaged. Yet humanity is finding its way, propelled by those two engines that have moved progess through the ages since the dawn of time: science, and religion.

On one side is the Church of Natural Humans, a religious faction exalting "natural humanity", those people untainted by technological enhacements or dependency on a computerized world. Led by a charismatic leader, a beautiful and deadly assassin and an army of zealots, the Church seeks to wipe out those who would promote the artificial over the natural.

On the other side lies the Domain, a group of technocrats bent on achieving world domination through the sale of artificial humans and the restoration of global communications that will give them total control of the people and major economies that are in tatters.

In the middle is David Brown, the son of the man accused of creating Peacemaker and a man determined to prove his father was a pawn in the most dangerous game ever played - a game in which the ultimate prize is the world itself.

UNHOLY DOMAIN is a damn scary book filled with fascinating ideas and questions that wrestle with notions of family, security, betrayal, and our dependency on a way of life that can be stripped of us at any whim of a capricious technogod. Ronco writes with a tight, fast-paced style that draws the reader into his world and keeps their pulse-rate high throughout the book. While it is a sequel to his first novel, Peacemaker, new readers are able to fully enjoy the follow-up without the nagging feeling that they're missing something. A terrific new voice in the world of techno-thrillers, Dan Ronco is an author to keep track of.

Blade Runner Remains a Troubling Vision

I watched the Director’s Cut of Blade Runner last night, and, you know, it’s still compelling and relevant. The movie, now a modern classic, provides insights regarding unrestrained capitalism, industrial technologies and most importantly, what it means to be human. If anything, it has grown in status over the years.

Blade Runner, released in 1982, was based upon Philip K. Dick’s brilliant 1968 novel, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. Although sharing common themes, the movie is substantially different, and in my opinion, even better than the compelling Dick novel.

The movie is built around the concept of replicants, which are androids virtually indistinguishable from humans. Their makers, the Tyrell Corporation, live by the motto “more human than humans." Yet, the replicants are basically slave laborers, forced to do the jobs humans don’t want.

The replicants are stronger, more agile and possibly more intelligent than humans. The first replicants were manufactured without memories, so they were much less sophisticated than humans. Later models, however, were given false childhood memories, so their emotions developed along human lines. As the replicants acquired experience and additional memories, they developed a sense of self. This led to a desire for freedom, and from time to time, groups of replicants revolted and killed their human slave masters. Because humanity worried about a large scale revolt, the replicants were manufactured with only a four year lifespan. In addition, they were used for difficult or dangerous tasks off world, and banned from coming to earth. Any replicants on earth were hunted by specialized police officers called blade runners, tracked down and “retired.”

Eco-disaster is the other main theme. In the novel, the ecosystem has been destroyed by war, but in the movie, unrestrained capitalism and the resultant pollution seems to be the culprit. Virtually all the animals and plants on Earth have died out, replaced by synthetics. Owning a live animal is only for the rich; most people purchase synthetic animals. Los Angeles is pictured as dark and constantly raining, a victim of unrestrained human industries.

In the movie, world weary blade runner Rick Deckard is pulled out of retirement to hunt a group of four rogue replicants. The replicants seek to escape from their four year death sentences, and their leader Roy Batty confronts Dr. Eldon Tyrell, the creator of the replicants. However, Tyrell claims that he can’t lengthen their lifespan, and Batty, his hopes crushed, murders Tyrell.

Replicants may be uncovered by the Voight-Kampff machine, which is similar to a lie detector. Deckard tests the machine on Rachael, an advanced type of replicant, who is so human-like, she almost evades detection. In fact, Rachael doesn’t know she’s not human --- she has been loaded with memories of her childhood --- and she is crushed when Deckard reveals the truth. Deckard, in turn, feels empathy for her, a strange emotion for a man who retires replicants. He begins to realize humans and replicants have much in common; the replicants are not mere machines.

One by one, the replicants are retired, until only Batty remains of the original four. Deckard tracks him down, but in a thrilling confrontation, Batty turns the tables and has Deckard at his mercy. Batty spares Deckard and then runs out of time --- his four years have expired.

Deckard is now convinced the replicants are sentient beings equivalent to humans. He has fallen in love with Rachael, and she returns his emotion. The film ends with the two of them leaving his apartment, hoping to escape the blade runner that will inevitably come after them. Not a happy ending, but a hopeful one.

Blade Runner drew me into that gritty world of Los Angeles like few movies ever have. I was there with Deckard, Batty and the rest, experiencing the hopelessness of their lives, hoping this was not the future of our country. Blade Runner suggests that we are destined to be the victims of our own primitive emotions. Not only do we reject the replicant’s humanity, we reject our own. But Blade Runner leaves us with a sliver of hope. If Deckard and Batty can come to terms with each other’s humanity, if Deckard and Rachel can fall in love, maybe we can discover our compassion after all.