The Drowned Cities

The Drowned Cities

Paolo Bacigalupi

Language: English

Pages: 464

ISBN: 0316056227

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This thrilling companion to Paolo Bacigalupi's Michael L. Printz Award winner Ship Breaker is a haunting and powerful story of loyalty, survival, and heart-pounding adventure.
In a dark future America where violence, terror, and grief touch everyone, young refugees Mahlia and Mouse have managed to leave behind the war-torn lands of the Drowned Cities by escaping into the jungle outskirts. But when they discover a wounded half-man--a bioengineered war beast named Tool--who is being hunted by a vengeful band of soldiers, their fragile existence quickly collapses. One is taken prisoner by merciless soldier boys, and the other is faced with an impossible decision: Risk everything to save a friend, or flee to a place where freedom might finally be possible.

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fought well and honorably, they would ride in the war chariot of the sun. Tool would die and he would go to fields of meat and honey, and he would find his pack and they would hunt tigers with their bare hands. They would hunt. Soon. He remembered the electric prods the trainers used. Showering sparks as they struck his nose. Looming over him, making him cower as they struck him, all of his brothers and sisters pissing and scrambling over one another to get away from them. Trainers. Hard men

you to go over some of our inside sectors, check them real close. See what crops up.” Sayle was more direct. “I want you boys to go out and make sure none of those cross-kissers makes it through on my watch. You catch one, you send him back without his hands and feet, right? Teach them a lesson.” “Yes, sir,” they all chorused, but Ghost still felt nauseated from the night before and the new brand on his cheek ached like crazy. No way he was going to complain about it, but still. Ocho gave

were pouring in from all sides. Mahlia slammed up against the warehouse’s secret door, feeling for its catches, scrabbling at them, jamming them, pounding them in frustration. The door swung open. She dove through, pulling Mouse. She heard shouts behind her. She tried to slam the door closed but a rifle jammed its way through, blocking her. Outside, the soldiers were all yelling. They slammed against the door and knocked her back. Soldier boys swarmed through, surrounding her. They grabbed her

closely. Tool measured the distance between them, but Stern remained just out of reach. “I do what I can with the clay I have,” the Colonel said. “But this is very rough clay. Children? Farmers from the jungles? We can mold them, but they are weak material. Fired by war, to be sure, and clever enough, but they are small and they have fought on only one battlefield in their entire lives. We both know that nothing in the Drowned Cities compares to you. I am at war, and you are one of the finest

they do best.” Stern nodded seriously. “We’ve both walked those paths.” “I never turned children to war,” Tool said. “Only because you fought on the side of wealth,” Stern retorted. “You think I want to fight with children? This was not my preference. The Army of God started the practice. Or else it was the Revolution Riders, or perhaps it was the Blackwater Alliance. It’s hard to remember where these things began, but I assure you, it was not my choice. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let our

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