By Paul J. McAuley
For Dorthy Yoshida - abused earthborn expertise and leading participant within the mystery heritage of the galaxy - the seeds of future have been sown one million years within the past...when a massive solar exploded and substantial civilizations died within the next blood feuding of 10000 alien family members international locations. or maybe all of it all started a dozen years earlier than her beginning - whilst a better Brazilian flyby drone was once destroyed above a pink dwarf megastar, drawing an uncomprehending human race right into a thousand-millennia-old genocidal clash that used to be now not their very own. And now Dorthy's amazing psychological skill to the touch the earlier and the long run has made her the pawn of a prosperous immortal's vengeance - rocketing her to the black gap on the center of the galaxy, and into the perilous center of a fanatical non secular sect's relentless look for hidden gods. For it really is the following that the ultimate conflict needs to eventually be fought opposed to a fearsome, invisible Enemy who has harnessed the powers of production to obliterate a universe. And it really is Dorthy Yoshida who stands on the frontlines of the warfare for day after today - unknowingly owning the solutions to the mysteries of eternity...and the most important to fighting the apocalyptic unraveling of house and time.
Originally released in 1991 through Gollancz.
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Extra info for Eternal Light (Stars, Book 3)
Thrr-tulkoj seemed taken aback. "I'm sorry—I thought I'd be doing you a favor. " "Well, fill in half of it, anyway," Thrr-pifix-a said, walking out toward the row of bushes. " They spent the next tentharc digging small holes into the Kyrandas' root systems; and when they were finished, Thrr-pifix-a was feeling almost as if the past two fullarcs had never happened. "I'm glad you came by this postmidarc, Thrr-tulkoj," she told him as he washed the dirt off his hands and arms beneath the kitchen waterflow.
Hold still," Kolchin murmured. " Abruptly, the shelter was ablaze with light from Kolchin's pen torch. Cavanagh squinted against the glare, his eyes fighting to adjust, and looked down toward the left side of his sleeping roll. It was there, all right: a slender, segmented greenish-purple vine moving leisurely alongside his leg. Cavanagh didn't recognize the particular species, but like the rest of Granparra's recoil creepers, its tip and sides bristled with barbed thorns. Even as he watched, it moved again, poking mindlessly at the sleeping roll as it tried to get to the source of the heat it was sensing.
He was working his way down the creeper, methodically cutting through the vine at each of the segment lines and throwing the pieces out into the forest. " "Right," Cavanagh said, reaching gingerly past the still writhing vine head for his watch. Still two hours to dawn. " "Sometime this morning," Kolchin said, coming back from his search-and-kill defoliation exercise and returning Cavanagh's knife to its sheath. Squatting down, he carefully pulled his own knife out of the ground, the twitching vine head still impaled on the split blade.
Eternal Light (Stars, Book 3) by Paul J. McAuley