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Zusatztext Praise for Chasm City Winner of The British Science Fiction Association’s Award for Best Novel of the Year One of Locus and Science Fiction Chronicle ’s “ Best SF Novels of the Year” “Deep! complex and always more than [it] seems. Reynolds succeeds in the hardest task of good science fiction! creating a new world full of wonder.”— The Denver Post “A tightly written story that spirals inevitably inwards toward its powerful conclusion. [ Chasm City ] confirms Reynolds as the most exciting space opera writer working today.”— Locus “The best thing that Reynolds has ever done...in the end! it’s a joy.”—John Clute! author of Appleseed ! coeditor of The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction “A worth follow-up to Revelation Space . Reynolds transmutes space opera into a nourish! baroque! picaresque mystery tale. Inventiveness and tone are Reynolds’ strong points...the novel’s details are consistently startling but convincing in context. Reynolds remains one of the hottest new SF writers around.”— Publishers Weekly “Successfully combines SF noir with technothriller in a dark vision of the future.”— Library Journal “An impressive book. Another step toward what could become a very significant 21st century hard SF career.”— SF Site Informationen zum Autor Alastair Reynolds is the author of the Poseidon's Children series and the Revelation Space series. Born in Barry, South Wales, he studied at Newcastle University and the University of St. Andrews. A former astrophysicist for the European Space Agency, he now writes full-time. Klappentext Alastair Reynolds redefines Hell in this award-winning novel that confirms him as "the most exciting space opera writer working today"(Locus). The once-utopian Chasm City-a domed human settlement on an otherwise inhospitable planet-has been overrun by a virus known as the Melding Plague, capable of infecting any body, organic or computerized. Now, with the entire city corrupted-from the people to the very buildings they inhabit-only the most wretched sort of existence remains. For security operative Tanner Mirabel, it is the landscape of nightmare through which he searches for a low-life post-mortal killer. But the stakes are raised when his search brings him face to face with a centuries-old atrocity that history would rather forget. ONE Darkness was falling as Dieterling and I arrived at the base of the bridge. “There’s one thing you need to know about Red Hand Vasquez,” Dieterling said. “Don’t ever call him that to his face.” “Why not?” “Because it pisses him off.” “And that’s a problem?” I brought our wheeler to near-halt, then parked it amongst a motley row of vehicles lining one side of the street. I dropped the stabilisers, the overheated turbine smelling like a hot gun barrel. “It’s not like we usually worry about the feelings of low-lives,” I said. “No, but this time it might be best to err on the side of caution. Vasquez may not be the brightest star in the criminal firmament, but he’s got friends and a nice little line in extreme sadism. So be on your best behaviour.” “I’ll give it my best shot.” “Yeah—and do your best not to leave too much blood on the floor in the process, will you?” We got out of the wheeler, both of us craning our necks to take in the bridge. I’d never seen it before today—this was my first time in the Demilitarised Zone, let alone Nueva Valparaiso—and it had looked absurdly large even when we’d been fifteen or twenty kilometres out of town. Swan had been sinking towards the horizon, bloated and red except for the hot glint near its heart, but there’d still been enough light to catch the bridge’s thread and occasionally pick out the tiny ascending and descending beads of eleva...
