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596 pages, ebook
First published May 3, 2022
“This is the salvage ship Vulture God to whoeverthefuck’s even down there. Call for Idris Telemmier, double urgent. Idris, this is Olli. You remember? Olli, your fucking captain? Being kidnapped doesn’t excuse you from turning up for duty, you skiving bastard. Idris, or Idris’s kidnappers. Say something, damn it!”Adrian Tchaikovsky can be counted on to provide consistently good quality books at such a speed that I suspect he’s either a conglomerate of writers or a clone army — or maybe he just really likes what he does and is very good at it. No, you know what — it *must* be the clone army thing.
“Because unspace wasn’t real. And when you entered unspace, you weren’t real either. You existed only in the bubble of your own consciousness and, even if you gripped the hand of your neighbour painfully tight, as many of them did, those fingers would become empty the moment the ship dropped from the real.”![]()
“We’re basically standing at the edge of a raw wound between unspace and the real.”
“He hadn’t properly asked himself what he would prefer to do. The idea that it would be relevant had never occurred to him.”
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“He was the canary in the mine, and you always brought the canary. Nobody cared that the canary didn’t much enjoy its job and would maybe like to be doing something else.”
“Then he knew. And it wasn’t what he’d thought. He felt leaden and bitter, even as Ahab exulted that the universe had finally given up its secrets.”
“He didn’t want to take the war to the Architects. He didn’t want to be any part of what might be genocide. But neither the universe nor the war was done with him yet.”