Revenant Gun
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Praise for Raven Stratagem
‘Lee’s ability to balance high science fiction concepts—worlds, cultures, and weapons—with a deep examination of character—tragic flaws, noble purpose, and societal ideas—is nigh unprecedented in space opera.’
The Barnes & Noble Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog
‘How do you follow-up a breathtaking, multiple award-nominated debut that combined world-changing technologies, interesting reality-altering mathematics and awesome characters? Raven Stratagem is as mind-blowing as its predecessor, but in a completely different way.’
Kirkus Reviews
‘Without a doubt, Raven Stratagem is proof that Yoon Ha Lee sits next to Ann Leckie atop the podium for thoughtful, intricate, and completely human science fiction.’
Tor.com
‘This stunning sequel to the Hugo- and Nebula-nominated Ninefox Gambit contains a satisfying mixture of interstellar battles, politics, intrigue, and arcane technology… Readers who don’t mind being dropped in the deep end will savor this brilliantly imagined tale.’
Publishers Weekly Starred Review
‘Lee has leveraged the adage that “any seemingly advanced science can look like magic” to create truly bizarre technologies; while there is plenty of gripping space opera action, the real pleasure of this series is the inventive worldbuilding.’
Library Journal Starred Review
‘Raven is a triumphant continuation of a vibrant new space opera. I expected intrigue and entertainment; I wasn’t prepared for all the feelings. I can’t wait to see where Yoon Ha Lee takes this rollercoaster next.’
The Speculative Herald
‘If you like your universes with a dark sense of humour and a wonky moral compass, Lee may be the best thing to happen to Space Opera since Banks’s untimely passing.Raven Stratagem is that rare thing—a sequel that betters the original. The ruling order is on its way out, and something is going to replace it. It could be freedom. It could be chaos. It could be a disaster. What could be more timely?’
Shoreline of Infinity
‘Last year, I read and loved a stunning military space opera. This year, I had the pleasure of reading the sequel, Raven Stratagem, and may have loved it even more. I really hope Lee chooses to write more. This series has been one of the best things to happen in science fiction, and I can’t recommend it enough.’
The Illustrated Page
‘The book works as a kind of puzzle… [and] like the best puzzles, there is a certain inevitable logic to how the whole thing plays out, both against and with our expectations. I for one can’t wait to see the final scenario.’
Strange Horizons
‘There’s grand space battles here. There’s political manoeuvring at the heart of the Empire, and some genuinely crackling dialogue. There’s characters baring their souls in genuinely moving moments. It makes for an absolutely cracking read.’
Sci-Fi and Fantasy Reviews
Praise for Ninefox Gambit
‘The story is dense, the pace intense, and the delicate East Asian flavoring of the math-rich setting might make it seem utterly alien to many readers—yet metaphors for our own world abound. Readers willing to invest in a steep learning curve will be rewarded with a tight-woven, complicated but not convoluted, breathtakingly original space opera. And since this is only the first book of the Machineries of Empire trilogy, it’s the start of what looks to be a wild ride.’
N. K. Jemisin, The New York Times
‘I love Yoon’s work! Ninefox Gambit is solidly and satisfyingly full of battles and political intrigue, in a beautifully built far-future that manages to be human and alien at the same time. It should be a treat for readers already familiar with Yoon’s excellent short fiction, and an extra treat for readers finding Yoon’s work for the first time.’
Ann Leckie
‘Cheris and Jedao are fascinating, multi-faceted entities, filled with contradictions and idiosyncrasies; Lee’s prose is clever and opulently detailed; the worldbuilding is jaw-droppingly good. Like the many-eyed Shuos, the book appears to delight in its own game, a tangle of plots and subplots. It almost seems content to never be deciphered, but if you persist, you’re in for a fantastic story. Lee’s novel is a brilliant way to begin a trilogy.’
Ars Technica
‘Yoon Ha Lee recasts Korean legend in a densely rendered, high-tech future universe, with intricate worldbuilding.’
The Guardian
‘Rather than aping the generic clipped-and-grim style so often employed by other, less talented writers, Lee leans in the other direction, finding a sumptuous beauty in physical moments and complexity in thought and motivation. Ninefox is a book with math in its heart, but also one which understands that even numbers can lie. That it’s what you see in the numbers that matters most. And that something — maybe all things — begun with the best, truest of intentions can go terribly wrong once the gears of reality begin to churn.’
NPR
‘Beautiful, brutal and full of the kind of off-hand inventiveness that the best SF trades in, Ninefox Gambit is an effortlessly accomplished SF novel. Yoon Ha Lee has arrived in spectacular fashion.’
Alastair Reynolds
‘Starship Troopers meets Apocalypse Now—and they’ve put Kurtz in charge... Mind-blistering military space opera, but with a density of ideas and strangeness that recalls the works of Hannu Rajaniemi, even Cordwainer Smith. An unmissable debut.’
Stephen Baxter
‘For those itching for dense worldbuilding, a riproaring plot, complex relationships, and military SF with a deep imagination, it’ll do just the trick. Lee’s already shown he has the chops for short fiction, and now Ninefox Gambit proves that he’s a novelist to watch out for. This is military SF with blood, guts, math, and heart.’
Tor.com
‘“You know what’s going on, right?” Ninefox Gambit asks. Often, you have to say, “Uh, yeah, of course,” when the real answer is “I have no idea, but I really, really care.” And then you keep reading.’
Strange Horizons
‘For sixteen years Yoon Ha Lee has been the shadow general of science fiction, the calculating tactician behind victory after victory. Now he launches his great manoeuvre. Origami elegant, fox-sly, defiantly and ferociously new, this book will burn your brain. Axiomatically brilliant. Heretically good.’
Seth Dickinson
‘A high-octane ride through an endlessly inventive world, where calendars are weapons of war and dead soldiers can assist the living. Bold, fearlessly innovative and just a bit brutal, this is a book that deserves to be on every awards list.’
Aliette de Bodard
‘Ambitious. Confusing. Enthralling. Brilliant. These are the words I will use to describe Yoon Ha Lee’s utterly immersive, utterly memorable novel. I had heard very high praise for Lee’s short fiction—still, even with those moderate expectations I had no idea what I was in for. I haven’t felt this blown away by a novel’s originality since Ancillary Justice. And, since I’m being completely honest, Ninefox Gambit is actually more inventive, boundary-breaking, and ambitious than that.’
The Book Smugglers
‘Cheris’ world feels genuinely alien, with thrillingly unfamiliar social structures and technologies, and the attention to detail is simply stunning. Just don’t ever let your concentration slip, or there’s a good chance that you will miss something wonderful.’
SciFi Now
‘A dizzying composite of military space opera and sheer poetry. Every word, name and concept in Lee’s unique world is imbued with a sense of wonder.’
Hannu Rajaniemi
‘There’s a good chance that this series will be seen as an important addition to the space opera resurgence of recent years. While Lee has developed a singular combination of
military SF, mathematical elegance, and futuristic strangeness, readers may note echoes of or similarities to Iain M. Banks, Hannu Rajaniemi, C. J. Cherryh, Ann Leckie and Cordwainer Smith. Admirers of these authors, or anyone interested in state-of-the-art space opera, ought to give Ninefox Gambit a try.’
Worlds Without End
‘Daring, original and compulsive. As if Cordwainer Smith had written a Warhammer novel.’
Gareth L. Powell
‘That was a great read; very intriguing world building in particular. I now want to sign all my emails with “Yours in calendrical heresy.”’
Tobias Buckell
‘A striking space opera by a bright new talent.’
Elizabeth Bear
‘Suitably, given the rigid Doctrine of the hexarchate and the irresistible formation instinct of the warrior Kel faction, Ninefox Gambit is a book of precise rigor. It gives a wonderful amount of worldbuilding without any clunky exposition dumps, is ruthlessly clear-eyed about the costs and concerns of war (especially at this technological level) and gives us an instantly ingratiating heroine who spends most of the book doing her best to outmaneuver the forces that have set her up to fail, waste the lives of her troops or just die. This is a future to get excited about.’
RT Book Reviews
‘Space-based nail-biter Ninefox Gambit is a smart space opera that pushes the frontier of science fiction. A must-read.’
Kirkus Reviews
‘Confused yet? The learning curve on Ninefox Gambit shouldn’t be underestimated, although readers with a solid foundation in hard science fiction will have an easier time parsing the narrative. It’s a challenging story, tackling science fiction concepts we’re familiar with (spaceships and intergalactic war) while layering on purposefully obfuscated but compelling twists.’
Barnes & Noble Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog
‘If you’re looking for another great sci-fi read, you should consider Ninefox Gambit.’
Sci-Fi Addicts
First published 2018 by Solaris
an imprint of Rebellion Publishing Ltd,
Riverside House, Osney Mead,
Oxford, OX2 0ES, UK
www.solarisbooks.com
ISBN: 978-1-78618-110-7
Copyright © 2018 Yoon Ha Lee
Cover art by Chris Moore
The right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owners.
CHAPTER ONE
JEDAO WOKE UP in a luxuriously appointed suite, all ink painting scrolls and curious asymmetrical chairs and translucent tables. The last thing he remembered was being sprawled on a bed in a much smaller room wrestling his friend Ruo for a game controller. This had better not be a hotel, he thought, wondering if Ruo had persuaded him to do something regrettable again. He couldn’t afford anything like this.
Not trusting the situation, he ducked down behind the chair he’d found himself in, and listened. No sound. After a while, he peered around, careful to stay silent. There was a closed door, and across from it, an open entrance to another room. No windows or viewports, unless they were concealed.
Ruo, he thought, if this is another one of your pranks—
A hint of breeze passed through the suite, and he shivered. He thought to look down. They’d done something to his clothes. He was wearing a thin, off-white tunic and undershorts. Maybe someone from Shuos Academy was hazing him?
No one had shot at him yet, so he risked standing up. Paradoxically, that made him warier. He knew what to do about bullets and fire and smoke.
That bothered Jedao the more he thought about it. The most immediate memory told him that he’d last been a first-year in academy, but he was sure that even the Shuos didn’t put first-years into live-fire exercises. How did he know this stuff, anyway?
Jedao searched the first room, then grew bolder and tried the rest of the suite. There were six rooms, not seven, which made him frown. Surely the heptarchate still insisted on sevens for everything? Lots of objets d’art, too; no people to question. And no sign of Ruo.
A dresser occupied one wall of the bedroom, as luxurious as the rest of the furniture. Only the top drawer contained anything. Unfortunately, the anything was a Kel uniform. At least, Jedao presumed it was a Kel uniform, black with gold braid, the correct colors. He searched for pins or medals, turned the pockets inside out, anything to tell him more about the uniform’s owner. No luck, although the double bands on the cuffs indicated that it belonged to a high officer. The style looked odd, too. The left panel of the coat wrapped around, and instead of buttons it had toggles, with hook-and-eye fasteners to keep the whole affair closed.
Next to the uniform, tucked in a corner, rested a pair of silken black half-gloves. That suggested the uniform belonged to someone seconded to the Kel, rather than an actual Kel soldier.
“All right,” Jedao said, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach, “this isn’t funny anymore. You can come out now, Ruo.”
No response.
Jedao considered the possibility that someone had forgotten their uniform by accident. He picked up the shirt and unfolded it again. Then the pants. They looked like they would fit him rather well—wait a second. He narrowed his eyes at his arms, then his legs, then considered his torso. When had he put on all this muscle? Not that he was complaining, exactly, but the last he’d checked he’d been rather slimmer.
He was starting to think that Ruo didn’t have anything to do with this after all. At least, he couldn’t think of any reason Ruo would pass up an overnight muscle-enhancing treatment. In that case, what the fuck was going on?
Even if the uniform would fit him, Jedao knew better than to put it on. Too bad he didn’t have other clothes. But being shot for impersonating an officer didn’t sound fun.
The door opened. Ruo? Jedao thought; but no.
A man came in, pale and tall and extraordinarily beautiful. His amber-flecked eyes with their smoky lashes were emphasized by silver-dark eyeshadow. While the man wore Nirai black-and-silver, Jedao had never imagined one in clothes with such decadent ruffles, to say nothing of the lace that drowned his wrists.
Jedao’s new theory involved Nirai experimentation that he didn’t recall agreeing to. Of course, in the heptarchate they didn’t need to ask your permission. He backed up two steps.
The Nirai’s gaze swept right to Jedao’s hands, which were in plain sight and not doing anything threatening. The Nirai’s eyebrows shot up. “I hate to break it to you,” he said, ignoring Jedao’s hostile body language, “but you’re going to start panics going around with naked hands.” He had a low, cultured voice, as beautiful as the rest of him. “I advise you to put on the gloves, although those will start panics, too. Still, it’s the better of two bad alternatives. And you ought to get dressed.”
Was the man a guest instructor? And if so, why wasn’t he wearing insignia to indicate it? “Excuse me,” Jedao said. “I’d rather not go around in Kel drag. If there are civilian clothes somewhere, I’ll put those on instead. Who are you, anyway?”
“My name’s Nirai Kujen,” the man said. He strode forward until he’d backed Jedao into a corner. “Tell me your name.”
That seemed harmless enough. “Garach Jedao Shkan.”
Kujen frowned. “Interesting... that far back, hmm? Well, it’s close enough for my purposes. Do you know why you’re here?”
“Look,” Jedao said, starting to be more irritated than frightened, “who are you and what is your authority anyway?” Granted that he was only a Shuos cadet, but even a cadet should be afforded some small protection from interference by random members of other factions.
Kujen laughed softly. “Look at my shadow and tell me what you see.”
Jedao had taken it for an ordinary shadow. As he examined it more closely, though, he saw that it was made of the shapes of fluttering captive moths. The longer he stared at it, the more he saw the darkness giving way to a vast crevasse of gears and cams and silver chrysalises from which more moths flew free. He raised his head and waited for an answer to the question he couldn’t figure out how to formulate.
“Yes,” Kujen said. “I’m the Nirai hexarch.”
Jedao revised his speech mode to the most formal one. “Hexarch? Not heptarch?” The name didn’t sound familiar. He scrabbled in his memory for the names of any of the heptarchs and could only remember Khiaz, who led the Shuos. What kind of experiments had they been running on him anyway to mess up his knowledge of basics?
“It’s complicated. Anyway, you’re here to lead an army.”
That made even less sense. The Nirai faction dealt in technology, including weapons, but they weren’t soldiers; that was the realm of the Kel. Besides which—“I’m not a soldier,” Jedao said. Not yet, anyway. Besides which, didn’t you have to serve for years and years to get from grunt to general?