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The Fall of Hyperion
( Hyperion Cantos - 2 )
Дэн Симмонс
In the stunning continuation of the epic adventure begun in “Hyperion”, Simmons returns us to a far future resplendent with drama and invention. On the world of Hyperion, the mysterious Time Tombs are opening. And the secrets they contain mean that nothing—nothing anywhere in the universe—will ever be the same.
Dan Simmons
The Fall of Hyperion
To John Keats Whose Name Was Writ in Eternity
 
“Can God play a significant game with his own creature? Can any creator, even a limited one, play a significant game with his own creature?”
—Norbert Wiener, God and Golem, Inc.
 
“…May there not be superior beings amused with any graceful, though instinctive attitude my mind may fall into, as I am entertained with the alertness of a Stoat or the anxiety of a Deer? Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine… By a superior being our reasonings may take the same tone—though erroneous they may be fine–This is the very thing in which consists poetry…”
—John Keats, in a letter to his brother
 
“The Imagination may be compared to Adam’s dream—he awoke and found it truth.”
—John Keats, in a letter to a friend
Part One
One
On the day the armada went off to war, on the last day of life as we knew it, I was invited to a party. There were parties everywhere that evening, on more than a hundred and fifty worlds in the Web, but this was the only party that mattered.
I signified acceptance via the datasphere, checked to make sure that my finest formal jacket was clean, took my time bathing and shaving, dressed with meticulous care, and used the one-time diskey in the invitation chip to farcast from Esperance to Tau Ceti Center at the appointed time.
It was evening in this hemisphere of TC2, and a low, rich light illuminated the hills and vales of Deer Park, the gray towers of the Administration complex far to the south, the weeping willows and radiant fernfire which lined the banks of River Tethys, and the white colonnades of Government House itself. Thousands of guests were arriving, but security personnel greeted each of us, checked our invitation codes against DNA patterns, and showed the way to bar and buffet with a graceful gesture of arm and hand.
“M. Joseph Severn?” the guide confirmed politely.
“Yes,” I lied. It was now my name but never my identity.
“CEO Gladstone still wishes to see you later in the evening. You will be notified when she is free for the appo ............

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