Exiles - Hardcover

Coile, Mason

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0593851633 ISBN 13: 9780593851630

Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

A terrifying locked-room mystery from the author of William--this time set on a remote outpost on Mars.

The human crew sent to prepare the first colony on Mars arrives to find the new base half-destroyed and the three robots sent to set it up in disarray—the machines have formed alliances, chosen their own names, and picked up some disturbing beliefs. Each must be interrogated. But one of them is missing.

In this barren, hostile landscape where even machines have nightmares, the astronauts will need to examine all the stories--especially their own--to get to the truth.

Exiles is a terrifying, taut, one-sitting read, and Mason Coile once again blends science fiction and psychological horror to engage some of humanity’s deepest questions.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Mason Coile is a pseudonym of Andrew Pyper, the award-winning author of William and ten other novels, including The Demonologist, which won the International Thriller Writers Award, and Lost Girls, which was a New York Times bestseller and Notable Book of the Year.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

The beeping won't stop.

The beeping is sound become pain.

The beeping is the pulse of eternity.

The beeping is what I deserve.

The beeping is waking me from the longest sleep of my life.

2

You look like a greasy sheet of used parchment paper."

This is Kang, crouched next to my pod as I pull myself up and spill my legs over the side.

"A weirdly specific image," I say. "But I'll take it, considering I went into this thing four months ago."

"How about me?"

"You mean how do you look?"

"Yeah."

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear if you turn off that noise."

"What?" He cocks his head like a dog listening for the distant call of his name. "You mean this?"

Kang reaches out his hand without looking and flicks a black button on the wall that looks exactly like twenty other black buttons around it. The beeping stops.

"They didn't warn us how long we'd have to listen to that," I say.

"They didn't warn us about most of the things that could actually go wrong."

"Really? It felt like Mission Leader was reciting from the Bible of Terrifying Worst-Case Scenarios for two years straight."

"That was just what they could predict. The interesting shit is going to be all the gruesome things they couldn't imagine."

"You seem excited about that."

Kang shrugs. "I guess I am."

"Why's that?"

"I think one of them is already happening."

°°°


What’s the worst part of long-voyage space travel? There’s no shortage of options. A bathroom the size of a mini-fridge that leaves you a permanent hunchback. Having to crawl through humming tubes that connect the barely larger “communals” so that it feels like you’re living in a maze of MRIs. Masturbating in a sleep pod the dimensions of a coffin with one panel made of glass to ensure there’s zero privacy to go along with the claustrophobia.

All strong contenders, no question. But my personal nominee would have to be the first crap after being juiced awake from extend-sleep. I could attempt a description of the experience but just thinking about it brings a stabbing pain in my hunchback.

And then there's what Mission Leader referenced in our training, in an even more ominous tone than when describing the effects of cosmic radiation poisoning, or roasting alive on atmospheric entry: "the interpersonal risks."

The Valiant was launched from beyond the aura of the Earth's blue glow seven months ago. It would've been a long time to be awake, twiddling your thumbs. The necessity for extend-sleep didn't come from concerns about our boredom, however, but from our potential to go apeshit in a ship that felt (and often smelled) like being inside a sardine can. And outside? Nothing but space. Thousands of people, a handful of nations, and several billions of dollars have gone into this mission. It would be a shame for it to fail because the crew decided to stick sporks in each other's throats just for a change of pace.

We know we were individually chosen at least in part for our skill sets, the practical things we can do: Blake is crew leader and pilot, Kang is the engineer, and I'm the medical officer. There's overlap in there too-I know enough that I could fly the landing pod if I had to. Probably. Kang's been taught how to amputate a gangrenous arm or leg, and Blake seems able to do just about anything.

Our skills weren't the only reason we were selected though. There were better, more experienced engineers and pilots and doctors among the thousand candidates that got cut. As a crew, the main test was whether we'd be able to keep the sporks down for the journey and, assuming safe arrival, minimize conflict for the remainder of our lives, aka the "breathing hours" we have left, as measured by the available oxygen inside the base's walls. You need to get along, as Mission Leader put it, her arms stacked like a pair of steel bars over her chest. And we do. We get along. Even if that's not exactly the same thing as liking each other.

We're going to Mars and never coming back.

If all goes according to plan, the three of us-the entirety of Valiant's crew-will be the first humans to live and die on a planet other than Earth. A history-making triumph for some, a bleak honor for others. My own membership being with the latter camp. So why sign up? Why lie about being comfortable in small spaces, make up a story about dreaming of reaching the stars since I was a little girl, put up with the Mission Leader's physical and psychological abuse throughout the training and crew selection process?

I have no fucking idea.

I know it doesn't make sense, to come this far without a good reason. Which is why I haven't shared it with anyone-my crewmates or Mission Leader or the battery of psych quizmasters testing our resolve. Sometimes I think I've come all the way out here to find out.

°°°


“You better follow me,” Kang says, and then he’s crawling into the tube that leads to Operations.

I'd asked him what he meant about something bad already happening, aware that he wasn't going to answer me, that he'd leave that for Blake to do. This may have been an adherence to protocol, though I strongly suspect that it's just another point on the Asshole Spectrum for Kang. Not that he's a bad guy, not an outright menace or anything. In fact, there's a lot about him to admire: loyalty, courage, a surprisingly goofy sense of humor. He's just kind of a dick. Low-range irritating in the way of an older brother, or at least what I imagine an older brother would be like if I had one.

Only child, parents both gone. It could be this "adult orphan" status even helped my candidacy. I sort of get it if it did. Here's what I don't get: Why they put the three of us, one woman and two men, all straight, together when we're not allowed to have sex. Maybe they evaluated the attraction levels between us and didn't see that worry ever coming up. Can they do that? I have no idea. But we had to take so many psych tests and sit through so many interactive scenarios, they probably know more about us than we do ourselves, including any undiscovered fetishes or erotic triggers.

Sex is where everything goes wrong, apparently. There aren't many elements more essential to achieving the need to get along goal than eliminating that particular complication. It would be important to know if jealousy might arise between Kang and Blake as we wait two years for the next half dozen "pioneers" to join us. Or maybe I might turn out to be the issue. Maybe I have a secret thing for one of them, or both, and sex this early in the mission-pregnancy being the main but far from only resulting problem-is strictly against protocol.

This is not a reproductive phase of our colonization, Mission Leader would remind me. She repeated this more than anything else. You are initial base occupation only. The baby-making comes later-too late for you.

Yet here I am, watching Kang scooch into the tube, reflecting not for the first time on how I would never date a man like him in a thousand years, but wouldn't mind fucking him in this hopeless bucket if the mission laws didn't forbid it.

See? There's got to be five whole seconds right there of me thinking about it. Wasted time. How did that inefficiency get through the tests?

I cleanse my mind of the dirtiest of dirty bits. Then I get down on my knees and follow Kang's ass into the tube's white glow.

3

Blake is waiting for us in Operations. His Easily Distracted By Football coffee mug is in the holder of the arm of his pilot's chair. He looks like a trucker to begin with, and never more so than from the pose he's in now, leaning back, squinting at us like signposts through a...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: G.P. Putnam's Sons
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2025
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593851633
• ISBN 13: 9780593851630
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 205
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: G.P. Putnam's Sons; https://www.penguin.com/putnam/; ; 1745 BROADWAY Attn: Madison Forsander; NEW YORK; NY; 10019; USA
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar