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The Risen Empire by
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Popular In The Risen Empire
The Child Empress Anastasia Vista Khaman
The Risen Emperor
Rix Heavy Assault Ship
magnetic rail-launched uranium slug
structured smartalloy slug
Master Pilot Jocim Marx
structure-penetrating exsanguination slug
chaotic gravity beam
flechette cluster bomb
Popular Quotes And Their Visualizations
The Child Empress Anastasia Vista Khaman, heir to the throne and Lady of the Spinward Reaches.
The Rix, true to their religion, had wasted no time propagating a compound mind across Legis XV. They released viruses into the unprotected infostructure, corrupting the carefully controlled top-down network topology, introducing parallel and multiplex paths that made emergent global intelligence unstoppable. At this moment, every electronic device on the planet was being joined into one ego, one creature, new and vastly distributed, that would make the world Rix forever. Unless, of course, the planet was bombed back into the stone age.
They had fallen in a bright rain over the capital city, ten of them exploding in the defensive hail of bolt missiles, magnetic rail-launched uranium slugs, and particle beams from both the Lynx and groundside.
The room was sealed within a level-seven stasis field, a black sphere supposedly as unbreachable as an event horizon.
the padding on the back of the neck held hyper-oxygenated plasmanalog that was injected directly into the brain in case a marine’s heart stopped. The exoskeletal servomotors could immobilize the wearer if the suit detected a spinal injury. There were local anesthesia IVs every hundred square centimeters or so. And the armor could maintain a terminated marine’s brain almost as well as a Lazarus symbiant.
The five small craft passed from shadow, emerging with the suddenness of coins thrown into sunlight. The disks of their rotary wings shimmered in the air like heat, momentary rainbows flexing across prisms of motion.
the interceptors were small, unpiloted drones. Their only weapon was a long, sinuous grappling arm that hung from the rotary lifting surface, which was more screw than blade. The devices looked rather like something da Vinci might have designed four millennia ago, a contraption powered by the toil of tiny men.
He ordered the craft into its intelligence-gathering configuration. Sensory threads spread out in all directions, creeping vines of optical fiber and motile carbons.
Existence was good. Far richer than the weak dream of shadowtime.
It had been just a seed before, a kernel of design possessing a tiny mote of consciousness, waiting to unleash itself across a fecund environment. But only the integrated data systems of an entire planet were lush enough to hold it, to match its nascent hunger as it grew.
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