Cryoburn (Vorkosigan Saga)
Lois McMaster Bujold
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A New York Times hardcover bestseller, this is the long-awaited NEW installment in the hugely-popular, award-winning science fiction adventure series. Miles Vorkosigan, troubleshooter for the Barrayaran Galactic Empire, takes on the corrupt and dangerous ruling elite of a world where immortality is a commodity to be bought, sold and bartered for power.
Kibou-daini is a planet obsessed with cheating death. All well and good, so long as they kept to themselves. But now the Kibou-daini are attempting to franchise out their Fountain of Youth wares to the rest of the galaxy and the Barrayar Galactic Empire is none too pleased with the implications.
Cue Miles Vorkosigan, malformed royal troublemaker—but also heir and savior of empire. On Kibou-daini, Miles unearths a war of generations as the oldsters in charge refuse to die and their descendants threaten outright patricide, matricide and maybe even genocide—the prize being a big fat slice of the immortality pie. Bribery, corruption, conspiracy, kidnapping–something is rotten on Kibou-daini, and Miles is up to his neck in trouble and adventure once more.
“Fans have been clamoring for Hugo winner Bujold to pen a new Vorkosigan Saga novel. . . her deft and absorbing writing easily corrals the complex plot.”—Publishers Weekly
About Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga:
“Bujold mixes quirky humor with action [and] superb character development…[E]normously satisfying.”—Publishers Weekly.
“One of sf’s outstanding talents . . . an outstanding series.”—Booklist
“. . . an intelligent, well-crafted and thoroughly satisfying blend of adventure, sociopolitical commentary, scientific experiments, and occasional perils . . . with that extra spicing of romance. . . .”—Locus
About Vorkosigan series entry Diplomatic Immunity:
“Bujold is adept at world-building and provides a witty, character-centered plot, full of exquisite grace notes. . . fans will be thoroughly gripped and likely to finish the book in a single sitting.”—Publishers Weekly
co-appointment, not a courtesy just because she's his wife. His viceroyalty caps a long career in service to the Imperium." "Very hard act for Miles to follow, I gather," Raven-sensei put in. Jin thought of his own father, frozen in time by his death more permanently than by any cryonic procedure. Jin would never be more than seven, in those fading memories. Never seventeen, or twenty-seven, or almost thirty-eight from the other side. What would it be like to have a father when you were both
would want to know he was"-safe seemed a premature claim-"with me," Roic explained. Vorlynkin said distantly, "You know, if you people would be more forthcoming, we could do our job of supporting you much better." The faint bitterness in the consul's voice was more reassuring to Roic than the man could possibly imagine. It sounded quite like Vorlynkin had undergone some recent dealing with m'lord, one that he was loath to transmit over an unsecured comlink. "Yes, sir," said Roic, in a
of face stubble, general reek, and peculiar shoes might not be the whole of why he flinched. But, showing a keen eye that was well-placed in the diplomatic corps, he caught Miles's gaze tracking his waving mug, and added smoothly, "Do you want to come to the kitchen and sit down, my Lord Auditor? We were just having breakfast." "Tea, yes," said Miles, relieved from his impulse to wrench the mug out of the man's hand. Gods, yes. Vorlynkin led through the back archway, saying, "How did you get
Aunt and Uncle's pet, he thought. "Tetsu and Ken are horrid to me. Teasing and bedeviling. Uncle Hikaru yells at them, but he never gets up and does anything." Jin didn't quite see the problem with this. Well, he had a dim sense that maybe it was his job to heckle his own sister, but if somebody else wanted to take up the slack, he had no objection. "They're probably just jealous because you get all the girl stuff. Plus if you weren't here, Ken would have your room," he added in a fair-minded
peered out. "You again!" she said. "I thought we were well rid of you." She squinted at Jin. "Of both of you." The eye traveled on to Raven. "Who the hell are you?" "Raven Durona, from Escobar," Raven answered readily. "Pleased to meet you." "He's a friend," Miles said. "As in, Pass, friend." He brandished the carafe. "May we come in?" "Eh . . ." Reluctantly, but with her one open eye on the carafe, Suze gave way. She wore the same loose black garments as before; she probably slept in them.