By Paul J. McAuley
Fomalhaut was once first colonised through the posthuman fast, who verified an archipelago of thistledown towns and edenic worldlets in the star's massive dirt belt. Their peaceable, decadent civilisation was once rapidly conquered via a band of ruthless, competitive, unreconstructed people who name themselves the real, then, a century earlier than, the real chase away an enhance social gathering of Ghosts, a posthuman cult which colonised the close by approach of Beta Hydri after being pushed from the sun procedure one thousand years in the past. Now the Ghosts have again to Fomalhaut, to start their finish online game: the conquest of its unmarried fuel titanic planet, a captured interstellar wanderer a ways older than the remainder of Fomalhaut's approach. At its middle is a sphere of sizzling steel hydrogen with unusual and robust houses in accordance with unique quantum physics. the short think it's inhabited by means of an historic alien brain; the real think it may be constructed right into a weapon, and the Ghosts think it may be remodeled right into a computational process so robust it will possibly succeed in into their prior, cave in timelines, and fulfil the traditional prophecies in their founder.
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Extra info for In the Mouth of the Whale (The Quiet War, Book 3)
I do not know. We live in a world in which the only utopian visions arrive in commercial breaks: magical visions of an impossibly hospitable world, peopled by bright-eyed attractive men, women, children… Where nobody dies… Where all it takes is cheap, easily available product - a packet of salted peanuts or a new type of carpet cleaner to bring immediate, undiluted joy… And I thought that was honest. I thought I was being honest. In my worlds people died. I thought I was telling the truth, I thought… They were actors.
Anger because nothing I ever created was as good as it could have been, should have been. Was in my head. Everything I did. Everything was leading up to this next film. That would have been the one I got right. If I’d only had the time. Where is it? What was it I said in the treatment? “It will be a celebration of humanity, of the continuance of life, of human folly”. Human folly? Sure... I leave a paper-trail behind me, like a child lost in the woods, Pacing, and pacing, and pacing. Trying to find something to hold onto.
When it goes, I turn on the television. What does Chernobyl mean in English? That's right. Wormwood. All there, in the Revelation of St. John the Divine, on Patmos. It’s one of the symbols. Signs and portents. We’re living in the last days. I mean, take credit cards. Revelation, chapter 13 verse 17, that no man might buy or sell, save he had the mark, of the name of the beast, or the number of his name. It's hard to believe, isn’t it? A man, two thousand years ago, predicting credit cards. But he wasn’t a mere man.
In the Mouth of the Whale (The Quiet War, Book 3) by Paul J. McAuley