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Red Rising by Pierce Brown

Red Rising by Pierce Brown

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“Ender, Katniss, and now Darrow.”—Scott Sigler

Pierce Brown’s relentlessly entertaining debut channels the excitement of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

“I live for the dream that my children will be born free,” she says. “That they will be what they like. That they will own the land their father gave them.”

“I live for you,” I say sadly.

Eo kisses my cheek. “Then you must live for more.”

Darrow is a Red, a member of the lowest caste in the color-coded society of the future. Like his fellow Reds, he works all day, believing that he and his people are making the surface of Mars livable for future generations. Yet he spends his life willingly, knowing that his blood and sweat will one day result in a better world for his children.

But Darrow and his kind have been betrayed. Soon he discovers that humanity reached the surface generations ago. Vast cities and sprawling parks spread across the planet. Darrow—and Reds like him—are nothing more than slaves to a decadent ruling class.

Inspired by a longing for justice, and driven by the memory of lost love, Darrow sacrifices everything to infiltrate the legendary Institute, a proving ground for the dominant Gold caste, where the next generation of humanity’s overlords struggle for power. He will be forced to compete for his life and the very future of civilization against the best and most brutal of Society’s ruling class. There, he will stop at nothing to bring down his enemies . . . even if it means he has to become one of them to do so.
“Ender, Katniss, and now Darrow.”—Scott Sigler

Pierce Brown’s relentlessly entertaining debut channels the excitement of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.

“I live for the dream that my children will be born free,” she says. “That they will be what they like. That they will own the land their father gave them.”

“I live for you,” I say sadly.

Eo kisses my cheek. “Then you must live for more.”

Darrow is a Red, a member of the lowest caste in the color-coded society of the future. Like his fellow Reds, he works all day, believing that he and his people are making the surface of Mars livable for future generations. Yet he spends his life willingly, knowing that his blood and sweat will one day result in a better world for his children.

But Darrow and his kind have been betrayed. Soon he discovers that humanity reached the surface generations ago. Vast cities and sprawling parks spread across the planet. Darrow—and Reds like him—are nothing more than slaves to a decadent ruling class.

Inspired by a longing for justice, and driven by the memory of lost love, Darrow sacrifices everything to infiltrate the legendary Institute, a proving ground for the dominant Gold caste, where the next generation of humanity’s overlords struggle for power. He will be forced to compete for his life and the very future of civilization against the best and most brutal of Society’s ruling class. There, he will stop at nothing to bring down his enemies . . . even if it means he has to become one of them to do so.

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Categories:Book Excerpts
Published by: Random House of Canada on Jan 21, 2014
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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02/10/2014

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16
THE INSTITUTE
M
y test results come when I am practicing my cultural recog-nition and accent modulation with Matteo in our high-rise penthouse. We have a view of the city, the setting sun behind. I’m midway through a clever retort about the Yorkton Supernova faux-War sports club when my datapad beeps with a priority message sent to my datapad stream. I almost spill my coffee.“My datapad has been slaved by another,” I said. “It’s the Board of Quality Control.”Matteo shoots up from his chair. “We have perhaps four min-utes.” He runs into the suite’s library, where Harmony is reading on an ergocouch. She jumps up and is down and out of the suite in less than three breaths. I make sure that the holopictures of me with my fake family are arranged in my bedroom and throughout the pent-house. Four hired servants—Browns and a Pink—go about domes-tic tasks in the penthouse. They wear the Pegasus livery of my fake family.One of the Browns goes to the kitchen. The other, a Pink woman, massages my shoulders. Matteo shines my shoes in my room. Of course there are machines to do these things, but an Aureate would
 
114 | PIERCE BROWN
never use a machine for something a person could do. There is no power in that.The towncraft appears like a distant dragonfly. It grows as it buzzes closer and hovers outside my penthouse window. Its board-ing door slides open and a man in a Copper suit gives a bow of formality. I let my datapad open the duroglass window and the man floats in. Three Whites are with him. Each has a white Sigil upon their hands. Members of the Academians and a Copper bureaucrat.“Do I have the pleasure of addressing one Darrow au Androme-dus, son of the recently deceased Linus au Andromedus and Lexus au Andromedus?”“You have the honor.”The bureaucrat looks me up and down in a very deferential, but impatient manner. “I am Bondilus cu Tancrus of the Institute’s Board of Quality Control. There are some questions we must beg to ask of you.”We sit across from one another at my oak kitchen table. There, they hook my finger to a machine and one of the Whites dons a pair of glasses that will analyze my pupils and other physiological reac-tions. They will be able to tell if I am lying.“We will start with a control question to assess your normal reac-tion when telling truths. Are you of the Family Andromedus?”“Yes.”“Are you of the Aureate genus?”“Yes.” I lie through my teeth, ruining their control questions.“Did you cheat in your admissions test two months prior?”“No.”“Did you use nervenucleic to stimulate high comprehension and analytical functions during the test itself?”“No.”“Did you use a networkwidget to aggregate or synthesize outside resources in real time?”“No.” I sigh impatiently. “There was a jammer in the room, ergo it would have been impossible. I’m glad you’ve done your research and are not wasting my time, Copper.”

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