Scorpion
A Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
An exceptional, fast-paced thriller featuring a tech-empowered assassin whose pattern and objective you ve never seen before, chased by a heroine with tenacious grit. David Brin, author of The Postman and Existence
Quinn Mitchell...
Quinn Mitchell...
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An exceptional, fast-paced thriller featuring a tech-empowered assassin whose pattern and objective you ve never seen before, chased by a heroine with tenacious grit. David Brin, author of The Postman and ExistenceQuinn Mitchell is a nine-to-five spy an intelligence analyst for the CIA during the day, and a suburban wife and mother on evenings and weekends. After her young daughter is killed in a tragic accident, sending her life into a tailspin, Quinn hopes to find a new start in her latest assignment: investigating a series of bizarre international assassinations whose victims have been found with numeric codes tattooed, burned, or carved into their flesh. As Quinn follows the killer s trail across the globe, always one body behind, she begins uncovering disturbing connections between the murders and herself.
Every lead she tracks down in pursuit of the assassin brings Quinn one step closer to the Epoch Index, a mysterious encrypted message discovered in the archives of the Large Hadron Collider. Its origins are unknown and decrypting it is beyond even the CIA. Yet nothing else can possibly link together a slew of unsolvable murders, an enigmatic and sophisticated serial killer who always seems to be three steps ahead, a quirky young physics prodigy whose knowledge extends well beyond her years, and, underlying everything, the inescapable tragedy of Quinn s own past. Discovering the meaning of the Epoch Index leads Quinn to a shocking twist that shatters everything she thought she knew about the past, the future, and the delicate balance of right and wrong that she must now fight to preserve.
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1Agent of Chaos
The first thing Kira does before she gets up is put on her legs. They balance on an inductive charging mat beside her bed between a set of steel rails, and the muscles in the young woman s back and shoulders flair as she elevates herself. The nerve terminals in her thighs magnetically align to the pin jacks at the bottom of the carbon-fiber cups, and the interfaces constrict until they are securely attached.
She has skins somewhere she can roll up over them, and if she were to conceal the seams where the texture-etched urethane and her tissue meet with shorts or a tight skirt, the looks she would get on the street would be of lust and envy rather than curiosity, revulsion, or pity.
But Kira lives alone, so the servo-mechanical guts remain exposed, and she does not even bother dressing beyond underwear, a tank top, and her aviator-style metaspecs. She has not left the penthouse suite asylum at the top of the twisted and slowly rotating Infinity Moscow Tower in nearly four years. No good reason to even brush her teeth, or to close the master bathroom door while she pees.
Kira works nights. Her workstation is her studio, and her tools are instruments of fabrication and conspiracy. Proxies conceal her real IP and map to her many identities. Location can be cloaked from the outside world, but real-time interaction cannot be forged, so Kira has become nocturnal. Her boss calls her a change agent but she knows that s simply a way of distorting the truth. She is an agent of chaos.
The first step in her evening routine is to make herself tea. In the kitchen, she activates the kettle, and while she waits for it to boil, she sits down to flash charge the monitor affixed to her wrist. The device cannot be removed, so it must be replenished in place. She interweaves her fingers and leans forward, both arms flat against the mat. A lightning bolt icon appears in the corner of her vision, indicating that her glasses are
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receiving an ambient trickle charge conveyed through her biomagnetic field.
The charging mat is infused with stacks of overlapping coils that are meant to get warm but never hot, and it is not until she smells something caustic and hears an electrical pop that she is on her feet and her legs are backing her away, and she understands that she s been burned. She kicks the cord out of the wall, turns to the sink, and runs her arm beneath a cold stream.
She can already see round, red welts forming on the inside of her forearm. It hurts, but she is no stranger to pain. Pain is always with her, and she has learned to observe it from a distance rather than letting it in.
Kira was her family s primary source of income before the missiles hit, and her parents had her back in front of a computer before she was even out of the hospital. At home, her father carried her back and forth between her desk and the toilet, and her mother changed her bandages and brought her soup and bathed her, and they never spoke of the retaliatory attack her work provoked. It was in the past, and the past could not be changed. Kira learned from an early age that some people do not have the luxury of indulging in yesterday s fears or even today s chronic pain.
If any of her personal monitoring systems fail, she is supposed to alert her handlers immediately. F*** them, she thinks. They refuse to use anything that is not Russian-made, which means half of it is trash. The other half has shit firmware that any script kiddy could hack. They will know her charger is fried when her monitor runs dry and her biometrics suddenly drop offline.
Kira slides the patio door open to help get rid of the smell. Usually she does not check the pigeons until her tea is steeping, but tonight she steps outside into the cold Moscow evening.
Once a day, a bird arrives with a new handwritten en
The charging mat is infused with stacks of overlapping coils that are meant to get warm but never hot, and it is not until she smells something caustic and hears an electrical pop that she is on her feet and her legs are backing her away, and she understands that she s been burned. She kicks the cord out of the wall, turns to the sink, and runs her arm beneath a cold stream.
She can already see round, red welts forming on the inside of her forearm. It hurts, but she is no stranger to pain. Pain is always with her, and she has learned to observe it from a distance rather than letting it in.
Kira was her family s primary source of income before the missiles hit, and her parents had her back in front of a computer before she was even out of the hospital. At home, her father carried her back and forth between her desk and the toilet, and her mother changed her bandages and brought her soup and bathed her, and they never spoke of the retaliatory attack her work provoked. It was in the past, and the past could not be changed. Kira learned from an early age that some people do not have the luxury of indulging in yesterday s fears or even today s chronic pain.
If any of her personal monitoring systems fail, she is supposed to alert her handlers immediately. F*** them, she thinks. They refuse to use anything that is not Russian-made, which means half of it is trash. The other half has shit firmware that any script kiddy could hack. They will know her charger is fried when her monitor runs dry and her biometrics suddenly drop offline.
Kira slides the patio door open to help get rid of the smell. Usually she does not check the pigeons until her tea is steeping, but tonight she steps outside into the cold Moscow evening.
Once a day, a bird arrives with a new handwritten en
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Christian Cantrell
Christian Cantrell is a software engineer living outside of Washington, D.C. He is the author of the novels Containment, Kingmaker, and Equinox, as well as several short works of speculative fiction, three of which have been optioned for film or TV.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Christian Cantrell
- 2021, Internationale Ausgabe, 336 Seiten, Maße: 15,4 x 22,9 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Random House
- ISBN-10: 0593243900
- ISBN-13: 9780593243909
- Erscheinungsdatum: 04.06.2021
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Written with a unique blend of vim and wit, Scorpion is a cat-and-mouse, edge-of-your-seat, mind-blowing speculative techno thriller with a killer twist! Perfect for fans of Philip K. Dick and Richard K. Morgan. Diane Jeffrey, bestselling author of The Silent Friend[Scorpion] takes place in an only slightly futuristic world that snaps and bristles with technological capabilities that may seem distant or improbable but which are in fact just around the corner . . . There s snappy dialogue, sharp observation, and compelling characters in Quinn, Ranveer, and Henrietta; the technology sings, the physics is plausibly presented, and the suggestion of time travel fascinates . . . A fast, fun, and intelligent SF thriller. Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
This stunning near-future thriller from Cantrell takes some truly breathtaking turns. . . . Cantrell s drolly caustic prose encourages readers to care about the characters, even as the many surprises make it dangerous to get close to any one of them. The result is as entertaining as it is intellectually and ethically challenging. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
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