Golden Son by Pierce Brown PDF EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Pierce Brown
- Language: English
- Genre:Fantasy Adventure Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
WARLORDS
My silence thunders. I stand on the bridge of my starship, arm
broken and held in a gelcast, ion burns still raw on my neck. I’m
bloodydamn tired. My razor coils around my good right arm like a
cold metal snake. Before me, space opens, vast and terrible. Small
fragments of light prick the darkness, and primordial shadows move
to block those stars on the fringes of my vision. Asteroids. They float
slowly around my man-of-war, Quietus, as I search the blackness for
my quarry.
“Win,” my master told me. “Win as my children cannot, and you
will bring honor to the name Augustus. Win at the Academy and
you earn yourself a fleet.” He likes dramatic repetition. It suits most
statesmen.
He’d have me win for him, but I’d win for the Red girl with a
dream bigger than she ever could be. I’d win so that he dies, and her
message burns across the ages. Small order.
I am twenty. Tall and broad in the shoulders. My uniform, all
sable, now wrinkled. Hair long and eyes Golden, bloodshot.
Mustang once said I have a sharp face, with cheeks and nose
seemingly carved from angry marble. I avoid mirrors myself. Better
to forget the mask I wear, the mask that bears the angled scar of the
Golds who rule the worlds from Mercury to Pluto. I am of the
Peerless Scarred. Cruelest and brightest of all humankind. But I miss
the kindest of them. The one who asked me to stay as I bid her and
Mars goodbye on her balcony almost a year ago. Mustang. I gave
her a horse-crested gold ring as a parting gift, and she gave me a
razor. Fitting.
The taste of her tears grows stale in memory. I have not heard
from her since I left Mars. Worse, I have not heard from the Sons of
Ares since I won at Mars’s Institute more than two years ago. Dancer
said he would contact me once I graduated, but I have been cast
adrift among a sea of Golden faces.
This is so far from the future I imagined for myself as a boy. So
far from the future I wanted to make for my people when I let the
Sons carve me. I thought I would change the worlds. What young
fool doesn’t? Instead, I have been swallowed by the machine of this
vast empire as it rumbles inexorably on.
At the Institute, they trained us to survive and conquer. Here at
the Academy they taught us war. Now they test our fluency. I lead a
fleet of warships against other Golds. We fight with dummy
munitions and launch raiding parties from ship to ship in the way of
Gold astral combat. No reason to break a ship that costs the gross
yearly output of twenty cities when you can send leechCraft packed
with Obsidians, Golds, and Grays to seize her vital organs and make
her your prize.
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