Revenger
Chapters (33)
Title Page
REVENGER
Alastair Reynolds
GOLLANCZ
LONDON
Contents
Contents
Title Page
ONE – RACKAMORE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
TWO – JASTRABARSK
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
THREE – MAZARILE
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
FOUR – TRUSKO
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Also by Alastair Reynolds from Gollancz:
Copyright
ONE
ONE
RACKAMORE
1
1
Adrana had always hated Doctor Morcenx. He’d been the family physician since our parents landed on Mazarile, before we were born. He’d been there as Adrana and I grew up, and he’d been there when the plague took our mother. The plague was what turned my father against men like Captain Rackamore, because he reckoned they were meddling in things that were better off being locked up, but as far as I know no one ever proved the plague came out of a bauble.
None of that stopped him from being talked into a stupid investment in exactly the thing he disapproved of.
He was like that: easily persuaded against his own judgement. And it came to a head in the Hall of History one Forgeday evening in spring 1799. Father had gone to see what had come of his investment, and because he wanted to make a good showing among all the monied bigwigs in the Mazarile chamber of commerce, he’d brought both of us along for the evening. We were meant to be on our best behaviour. Prim and proper educated young ladies.
Adrana wasn’t having any of it.
‘Doctor Morcenx,’ called Father, noticing the family physician a few tables away. ‘Come and join us. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Adrana and Arafura. Look how much they’ve grown.’
Doctor Morcenx limped over. He was a pepperpot-shaped man who always wore black, and too many layers of it. ‘Always a pleasure, Mr Ness,’ he said, in his gruff, greasy voice, touching a hand to his forehead. Then he started humming a little tune. Doctor Morcenx was always humming little tunes, as if his own thoughts needed blacking out, the way one skull can smother the signal from another. ‘Your daughters are a credit to you,’ he said, buttering his words until they were soggy. ‘They must be a great consolation, given the disappointments of Captain Lar’s expedition. Your investment wasn’t too burdensome, I presume?’
‘We’ll weather it,’ Father said, putting a brave face on things.
‘You always do, Mister Ness, and it’s to your credit. As are your daughters. Fine specimens, both. It’s been my pleasure and my privilege to have seen them through their development.’ He carried on with the humming, and started digging his short, fat fingers into his pocket. ‘Would you like a . . .’
‘We’re a bit old for sweets now,’ Adrana said. ‘I’m eighteen and Fura’s not far off it.’