{"product_id":"hyperionisbn-9780385263481","title":"Hyperion","description":"\u003cb\u003eA stunning tour de force filled with transcendent awe and wonder, \u003ci\u003eHyperion\u003c\/i\u003e is a masterwork of science fiction that resonates with excitement and invention, the first volume in a remarkable epic by the multiple-award-winning author of \u003ci\u003eThe Hollow Man\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On the world called Hyperion, beyond the reach of galactic law, waits a creature called the Shrike. There are those who worship it. There are those who fear it. And there are those who have vowed to destroy it. In the Valley of the Time Tombs, where huge, brooding structures move backward through time, the Shrike waits for them all.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On the eve of Armageddon, with the entire galaxy at war, seven pilgrims set forth on a final voyage to Hyperion seeking the answers to the unsolved riddles of their lives. Each carries a desperate hope—and a terrible secret. And one may hold the fate of humanity in his hands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003ePraise for Dan Simmons and \u003ci\u003eHyperion\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Dan Simmons has brilliantly conceptualized a future 700 years distant. In sheer scope and complexity it matches, and perhaps even surpasses, those of Isaac Asimov and James Blish.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post Book World\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “An unfailingly inventive narrative . . . generously conceived and stylistically sure-handed.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eNew York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Simmons’s own genius transforms space opera into a new kind of poetry.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Denver Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “An essential part of any science fiction collection.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for Dan Simmons and \u003ci\u003eHyperion\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dan Simmons has brilliantly conceptualized a future 700 years distant. In sheer scope and complexity it matches, and perhaps even surpasses, those of Isaac Asimov and James Blish.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post Book World\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An unfailingly inventive narrative . . . generously conceived and stylistically sure-handed.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eNew York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Simmons’s own genius transforms space opera into a new kind of poetry.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Denver Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An essential part of any science fiction collection.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eDan Simmons\u003c\/b\u003e, a full-time public school teacher until 1987, is one of the few writers who consistently work across genres, producing novels described as science fiction, horror, fantasy, and mainstream fiction, while winning major awards in all these fields. His first novel, \u003ci\u003eSong of Kali, \u003c\/i\u003ewon the World Fantasy Award; his first science fiction novel, \u003ci\u003eHyperion, \u003c\/i\u003ewon the Hugo Award. His other novels and short fiction have been honored with numerous awards, including nine Locus Awards, four Bram Stoker Awards, the French Prix Cosmos 2000, the British SF Association Award, and the Theodore Sturgeon Award. In 1995, Wabash College presented Simmons with an honorary doctorate in humane letters for his work in fiction and education. He lives in Colorado along the Front Range of the Rockies.PROLOGUE\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Hegemony Consul sat on the balcony of his ebony spaceship and played Rachmaninoff's\u003cbr\u003ePrelude in C-sharp Minor on an ancient but well-maintained Steinway while great, green,\u003cbr\u003esaurian things surged and bellowed in the swamps below. A thunderstorm was brewing to the\u003cbr\u003enorth. Bruise-black clouds silhouetted a forest 0f giant gymnosperms while stratocumulus\u003cbr\u003etowered nine kilometers high in a violent sky. Lightning rippled along the horizon. Closer to the\u003cbr\u003eship, occasional vague, reptilian shapes would blunder into the interdiction field, cry out, and\u003cbr\u003ethen brash away through indigo mists. The Consul concentrated on a difficult section of the\u003cbr\u003ePrelude and ignored the approach of storm and nightfall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe fatline receiver chimed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul stopped, fingers hovering above the keyboard, and listened. Thunder rumbled\u003cbr\u003ethrough the heavy air. From the direction of the gymnosperm forest there came the mournful\u003cbr\u003eululation of a carrion-breed pack. Somewhere in the darkness below, a smallbrained beast\u003cbr\u003etrumpeted its answering challenge and fell quiet. The interdiction field added its sonic\u003cbr\u003eundertones to the sudden silence. The fatline chimed again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Damn,\" said the Consul and went in to answer it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhile the computer took a few seconds to convert and decode the burst of decaying tachyons, the\u003cbr\u003eConsul poured himself a glass of Scotch. He settled into the cushions of the projection pit just as\u003cbr\u003ethe diskey blinked green. \"Play,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'You have been chosen to return to Hyperion,\" came a woman's husky voice. Full visuals had not\u003cbr\u003eyet formed; the air remained empty except for the pulse of transmission codes which told the\u003cbr\u003eConsul that this fatline squirt had originated on the Hegemony administralive world of Tau Ceti Center.\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul did not need the transmission coordinates to know this. The aged but still beautiful\u003cbr\u003evoice of Meina Gladstone was unmistakable. \"You have been chosen to return to Hyperion as a\u003cbr\u003emember of the Shrike Pilgrimage,\" contin-ued the voice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe hell you say, thought the Consul and rose to leave the pit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You and six others have been selected by the Church of the Shrike and confirmed by the All\u003cbr\u003eThing,\" said Meina Gladstone. \"It is in the interest of the Hegemony that you accept.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe consul stood motionless in the pit, his back to the flickering transmission codes. Without\u003cbr\u003eturning, he raised his glass and drained the last of the Scotch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The situation is very confused,\" said Meina Gladstone. Her voice was weary. \"The consulate and\u003cbr\u003eHome Rule Council fàtlined us three standard weeks ago with the news that the Time Tombs\u003cbr\u003eshowed signs of opening. The anti-entropic fields around them were expanding rapidly and the\u003cbr\u003eShrike has begun ranging as far south as the Bridle Range.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul turned and dropped into the cushions. A holo had formed of Meina Gladstone's ancient\u003cbr\u003eface. Her eyes looked as tired as her voice sounded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"A FORCE:space task force was immediately dispatched from Parvati to evacuate the Hegemony\u003cbr\u003ecitizens on Hyperion before the Time Tombs open. Their time-debt will be a lithe more than\u003cbr\u003ethree 1-lyperion years.\" Meina Gladstone paused. The Consul thought he had never seen the\u003cbr\u003eSenate CEO look so grim. \"We do not know if the evacuation fleet will arrive in time,\" she said,\u003cbr\u003e\"but the situation is even more complicated. An Ouster migration cluster of at least four\u003cbr\u003ethousand . . . units ... has been detected approaching the Hyperion system. Our evacuation task\u003cbr\u003eforce should arrive only a short while before the Ousters.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul understood Gladstone's hesitation. An Ouster migration cluster might consist of ships ranging in size from single-person ramscouts to can cities and comet forts holding tens of  thousands of the interstellar barbarians.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"The FORCE joint chiefs believe that this is the Ousters' big push,\" said Meina Gladstone. The\u003cbr\u003eship's computer had positioned the holo so that the woman's sad brown eyes seemed to be staring\u003cbr\u003edirectly at the Consul. \"Whether they seek to control just I-Iyperion for the Time Tombs or\u003cbr\u003ewhether this is an all-out attack on the Woridweb remains to be seen. In the meantime, a full\u003cbr\u003eFORCE:space battle fleet complete with a farcaster construction battalion has spun up from the\u003cbr\u003eCamn System to join the evacuation task force, but this fleet may be recalled depending upon\u003cbr\u003ecircumstances.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul nodded and absently raised the Scotch to his lips. He frowned at the empty glass and\u003cbr\u003edropped it onto the thick carpeting of the holopit. Even with no military training he understood\u003cbr\u003ethe difficult tactical decision Gladstone and the joint chiefs were faced with. Unless a military\u003cbr\u003efarcaster were hurriedly constructed in the Hyperion system-at staggering expense-there\u003cbr\u003ewould be no way to resist the Ouster invasion. Whatever secrets the Time Tombs might hold\u003cbr\u003ewould go to the Hegemony's enemy. If the fleet did construct a farcaster in time and the\u003cbr\u003eHegemony committed the total resources of FORCE to defending the single, distant, colonial world\u003cbr\u003eof Hyperion, the Worldweb ran the terrible risk of suffering an Ouster attack elsewhere on the\u003cbr\u003eperimeter, or-in a worst-case scenariohaving the barbarians actually seizing the farcaster and\u003cbr\u003epenetrating the Web itself. The Consul fried to imagine the reality of armored Ouster troops\u003cbr\u003estepping through farcaster portals into the undefended home cities on a hundred worlds.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul walked through the holo of Meina Gladstone, retrieved his glass, and went to pour\u003cbr\u003eanother Scotch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You have been chosen to join the pilgrimage to the Shrike,\" said the image of the old CEO whom\u003cbr\u003ethe press loved to compare to Lincoln or Churchill or Alvarez-Temp or whatever other\u003cbr\u003epreHegira legend was in historical vogue at the time. \"The Templars are sending their treeship\u003cbr\u003eYdrasi1I,\" said Gladstone, \"and the evacuation task force commander has instructions to let it\u003cbr\u003epass. With a three-week time-debt, you can rendezvous with the Yggdrasill before it goes\u003cbr\u003equantum from the Parvati system. The six other pilgrims chosen by the Shrike Church will be\u003cbr\u003eaboard the treeship. Our intelligence reports suggest that at least one of the seven pilgrims is an agent of the Ousters. We\u003cbr\u003edo not . at this time - . have any way of knowing which one it is\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul had to smile. Among all the other risks Gladstone was taking, the 01d woman had to\u003cbr\u003econsider the possibility that he was the spy and that she was fatlining crucial information to an\u003cbr\u003eOuster agent. Or had she given him any crucial information? The fleet movements were\u003cbr\u003edetectable as soon as the ships used their Hawking drives, and if the Consul were the spy, the\u003cbr\u003eCEO's revelation might be a way to scare him off. The Consul's smile faded and he drank his\u003cbr\u003eScotch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Sol Weintraub and Fedmahn Kassad are among the seven pilgrims chosen,\" said Gladstone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul's frown deepened. He stared at the cloud of digits flickering like dust motes around\u003cbr\u003ethe 01d woman's image. Fifteen seconds of fatline transmission time remained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"We need your help,\" said Meina Gladstone. \"It is essential that the secrets of the Time Tombs\u003cbr\u003eand the Shrike be uncovered. This pilgrimage may be our last chance. If the Ousters conquer\u003cbr\u003eHyperion, their agent must be eliminated and the Time Tombs sealed at all cost. The fate of the\u003cbr\u003eHegemony may depend upon it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe transmission ended except for the pulse of rendezvous coordinates. \"Response?\" asked the\u003cbr\u003eship's computer. Despite the tremendous energies involved, the spacecraft was capable of\u003cbr\u003eplacing a brief, coded squirt into the incessant babble of FTL bursts which tied the human\u003cbr\u003eportions of the galaxy together.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"No,\" said the Consul and went outside to lean on the balcony\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003erailing. Night had fallen and the clouds were low. No stars were visible. The darkness would\u003cbr\u003ehave been absolute except for the intermittent flash of lightning to the north and a soft\u003cbr\u003ephosphorescence rising from the marshes. The Consul was suddenly very aware that he was, at\u003cbr\u003ethat second, the only sentient being on an unnamed world. He listened to the antediluvian night\u003cbr\u003esounds rising from the\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eswamps and he thought about morning, about setting out in the\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVikken EMV at first light, about spending the day in sunshine,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eabout hunting big game in the fern forests to the south and then\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ereturning to the ship in the evening for a good steak and a cold beer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul thought about the sharp pleasure of the hunt and the equally sharp solace of solitude:\u003cbr\u003esolitude he had earned through the pain and nightmare he had already suffered on l-lyperion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHyperion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul went inside, brought the balcony in, and sealed the ship just as the first heavy\u003cbr\u003eraindrops began to fall. He climbed the spiral staircase to his sleeping cabin at the apex of the\u003cbr\u003eship. The circular room was dark except for silent explosions of lightning which outlined\u003cbr\u003erivulets of rain coursing the skylight. The Consul stripped, lay back on the firm mattress, and\u003cbr\u003eswitched on the sound system and external audio pickups. He listened as the fury of the storm\u003cbr\u003eblended with the violence of Wagner's \"Flight of the Valkyries.\" Hurricane winds buffeted the\u003cbr\u003eship. The sound of thunderclaps filled the room as the skylight flashed white, leaving\u003cbr\u003eafterimages burning in the Consul's retinas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWagner is good only for thunderstorms, he thought. He closed his eyes but the lightning was\u003cbr\u003evisible through closed eyelids. He remembered the glint of ice crystals blowing through the\u003cbr\u003etumbled ruins on the low hills near the Time Tombs and the colder gleam of steel on the Shrike's\u003cbr\u003eimpossible free of metal thorns. He remembered screams in the night and the hundred-facet,\u003cbr\u003eruby-and-blood gaze of the Shrike itself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHyperion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul silently commanded the computer to shut off all speakers and raised his wrist to\u003cbr\u003ecover his eyes. In the sudden silence he lay thinking about how insane it would be to return to\u003cbr\u003eHyperion' During his eleven years as Consul on that distant and enigmati world, the mysterious\u003cbr\u003eChurch of the Shrike had allowed a dozen barges of offworld pilgrims to depart for the windswept barrens, around the Time Tombs, north\u003cbr\u003eof the mountains. No one had returned. And that had been in normal times, when the Shrike had\u003cbr\u003ebeen prisoner to the tides of time and forces no one understood, and theanti-entropic fields had\u003cbr\u003ebeen contained to a fewdozen meters\" around the Time Tombs. And there had been no threat of air\u003cbr\u003eOuster invasion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Consul thought of the Shrike, free to wander everywhere on, Hyperion, of the millions of\u003cbr\u003eindigenies and thousands of Hegemony citizens helpless before a creature which defied physical laws and which communicated only\u003cbr\u003ethrough death, and he shivered despite the warmth of the cabin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHyperion.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe night and storm passed. Another stormfront raced ahead of the approaching dawn.\u003cbr\u003eGymnosperms two hundred meters tall bent and whipped before the coming torrent. Just before\u003cbr\u003efirst light, the Consul's ebony spaceship rose on a tail of blue plasma and punched through\u003cbr\u003ethickening clouds as it climbed toward space and rendezvous.","brand":"Crown","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305138999525,"sku":"NP9780385263481","price":25.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780385263481.jpg?v=1730759512","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/hyperionisbn-9780385263481","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}