Back Fall; or, Dodge in Hell
Chapters (77)
  1. Title Page
  2. Contents
  3. Dedication
  4. Book 1
  5. Part 1
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Part 2
  15. Chapter 9
  16. Chapter 10
  17. Chapter 11
  18. Part 3
  19. Chapter 12
  20. Chapter 13
  21. Chapter 14
  22. Chapter 15
  23. Chapter 16
  24. Part 4
  25. Chapter 17
  26. Chapter 18
  27. Chapter 19
  28. Chapter 20
  29. Chapter 21
  30. Chapter 22
  31. Chapter 23
  32. Chapter 24
  33. Part 5
  34. Chapter 25
  35. Chapter 26
  36. Chapter 27
  37. Chapter 28
  38. Chapter 29
  39. Chapter 30
  40. Chapter 31
  41. Chapter 32
  42. Part 6
  43. Chapter 33
  44. Chapter 34
  45. Chapter 35
  46. Chapter 36
  47. Chapter 37
  48. Chapter 38
  49. Chapter 39
  50. Chapter 40
  51. Chapter 41
  52. Part 7
  53. Chapter 42
  54. Book 2
  55. Part 8
  56. Chapter 43
  57. Chapter 44
  58. Part 9
  59. Chapter 45
  60. Chapter 46
  61. Chapter 47
  62. Part 10
  63. Chapter 48
  64. Chapter 49
  65. Part 11
  66. Chapter 50
  67. Chapter 51
  68. Chapter 52
  69. Chapter 53
  70. Chapter 54
  71. Chapter 55
  72. Chapter 56
  73. Map of The Land
  74. Acknowledgments
  75. About The Author
  76. Also By Neal Stephenson
  77. Copyright

“Discovered” and mapped by white people before the advent of brand management consultants and focus groups, the geography of the West Coast abounded in strange and terrifying place names. The very name “California” came from a phantasmal Spanish novel about rampant Amazon Negresses. The Desolation Sound region, about halfway up the landward coast of Vancouver Island, confronted map-browsing visitors with a variety of features that were by turns named after whatever the first English or Spanish explorers considered inspiring (Enlightenment virtues such as discovery), devotional (diverse saints and theological debating points), important to grovel to (members of royal families, heroes, the admiralty), or dangerous enough to call for heavy hints that future colonizers shouldn’t go there. In the latter category was Devastation Narrows, joining Surge Rocks to Whirlpool Bay, and running, no joke, between Scylla Point and Charybdis Head. This exceptional concentration of scare words was the result of factors both geographical and cultural. The overall Desolation Sound region, if you zoomed out far enough, was the elbow in the five-hundred-kilometer-long sleeve of water separating Vancouver Island from the mainland. From that elbow the Queen Charlotte Strait ran wide and mostly unobstructed to the Pacific Ocean to the west. To the south, the Strait of Georgia was a similar highway of deep water to the confluence of the Strait of Juan de Fuca and Puget Sound. Tides ebbed and flowed along all of these. In less complicated waters, the direction of the water’s movement could be guessed simply by checking a tide table and then glancing at the map to note the direction of the open Pacific. But the rise and fall of the world’s largest body of water could reach Desolation Sound as readily from the west as from the south. That, combined with the exceptional number of islands, the maze of glacier-cut channels between them, and the verticality of the shores, made for movements of water that were as rapid as they were chaotic. Whirlpools, weird standing waves, undertows, bore tides, and abrupt reversals in the direction of flow were the norm.