In Adrian Tchaikovsky's Elder Race, a junior anthropologist on a distant planet must help the locals he has sworn to study to save a planet from an unbeatable foe.
Lynesse is the lowly Fourth Daughter of the queen, and always getting in the way.
But a demon is terrorizing the land, and now she’s an adult (albeit barely) and although she still gets in the way, she understands that the only way to save her people is to invoke the pact between her family and the Elder sorcerer …
In Adrian Tchaikovsky's Elder Race, a junior anthropologist on a distant planet must help the locals he has sworn to study to save a planet from an unbeatable foe.
Lynesse is the lowly Fourth Daughter of the queen, and always getting in the way.
But a demon is terrorizing the land, and now she’s an adult (albeit barely) and although she still gets in the way, she understands that the only way to save her people is to invoke the pact between her family and the Elder sorcerer who has inhabited the local tower for as long as her people have lived here (though none in living memory has approached it).
But Elder Nyr isn’t a sorcerer, and he is forbidden to help, for his knowledge of science tells him the threat cannot possibly be a demon.
Taschenbuch, 198 Seiten
Sprache: English
Am 15. November 2021 von Tordotcom veröffentlicht.
Another delightful story in a completely different genre from anything Tchaikovsky has done before.
And I don't think that it's a spoiler that this one is not as dark or depressing as some of his works have been.
Menciona su inspiración y asombrosamente no es mi tía Úrsula LeGuin. Acá tenemos un antropólogo que seguramente envió el Ekumen, sá, ni modo que quién.
Bueno y como ha escrito el otro profeta Arthur C. Clarke: cuando tienes tecnología avanzadísima pasas a ser mago.
Deplano tiene cuernos (con sensores, electrónica, cyborg, etc.).
El planeta donde anda haciendo etnografía se ha tornado medievaloso. Hace tres generaciones ayudó a una Chingona, ahora cien años después toca ayudar a la nieta.
Con un broncón.
Nuevos espeluznos por los cuerpos hechos de otros cuerpos. Pero con más espadazos.
Hubiera querido otras 100 páginas de ese mundo. Pero con qué gracia elige terminar la historia así nomás. Me gusta.
