By Paul J. McAuley
The Quiet conflict is over. town states of the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, based by way of descendants of refugees from Earth’s repressive regimes, the Outers, have fallen to the 3 Powers Alliance of larger Brazil, the eu Union, and the Pacific neighborhood. A century of enlightenment, rational utopianism and exploration of recent methods of being human has fallen darkish. Outers are herded into legal camps and compelled to collaborate within the systematic plundering in their nice information of medical and technical wisdom, whereas Earth’s forces loot their towns and settlements and ships, and plan a last technique to the ‘Outer problem.’ yet Earth’s victory is fragile, and riven by way of vicious inner politics. whereas searching out and attempting to anatomise the unusual gardens deserted in position by means of the Outers’ maximum genius, Avernus, the gene wizard Sri Hong-Owen is embroiled within the plots and counterplots of the family members that employs her. The diplomat Loc Ifrahim quickly discovers that making the most of victory isn’t as effortless as he notion. And on the earth, in larger Brazil, the democratic traditions preserved and elaborated by way of the Outers have contaminated a inhabitants wanting to get away the tyranny of the good households who rule them. in the meantime, within the outer reaches of the sun approach, a rag-taggle crew of refugees fight to maintain the final of the outdated beliefs. And on Triton, fanatical contributors of a cabal organize for a last conflict that threatens to shatter the way forward for the human species. After a clash fought to comprise the expansionist, posthuman objectives of the Outers, the long run is as doubtful as ever. just one factor is apparent. not anyone can get away the implications of battle -- specially the victors.
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Additional resources for Gardens of the Sun (The Quiet War, Book 2)
Then I guess you might as well relax. ” CHAPTER 15 “YOU’LL BE THERE. ” Jobs heard whimpering in the night. He was not asleep. Sleep wasn’t possible. Cordelia. The link had shown her smiling, mugging for the camera, just moments before her link recorded the single most devastating natural disaster in human history. He told himself she was alive. They couldn’t know, not for sure. Everyone dead? Maybe that was just because they didn’t want to try and save anyone. Not that it mattered. She was dead now, or would die later.
His teeth were unnaturally white and perfectly straight. His skin would never know a pimple. He’d even had his navel relocated and reshaped. The smirk was all his own. He was handsome, he was smart, he was smooth: He was way, way out of the freak-girl’s league, obviously. But if he beamed the sunlight of his attention on her she’d be his devoted servant not only now, but later, when they all thawed out. And that was the key: He would need a hard core of sycophants ready to back him up from the very first.
How many hours, how many days, weeks, months, years? Centuries? In two hours she would be in hibernation. Two hours. Would there be a time to say goodbye? Was now the time? “Mom and Dad? I love you both,” 2Face said, her throat closing up, choking off the words. “We love you, honey,” her mom said. Her dad said nothing, just wiped his tears with the back of his hand. The crowd was in a strange mood, or several strange moods. Many wept. Some joked, displays of bravado. Some prayed. Someone started to sing “God Bless America,” but no one joined in and the tune petered out.