Praise for Counting Heads
“Counting Heads was one of my favorite books of last year in any category, and an exemplary entry in the sci-fi genre…. Marusek could be the one sci-fi writer in a million with the potential to make an increasingly indifferent audience care about the genre again, and he could do it without dumbing down his subject matter.”
—The New York Times Book Review
“Counting Heads: exciting, major new SF novel…. David Marusek is one of the best-kept secrets of science fiction, a wild talent with a Gibson-grade imagination and marvelous prose, and a keen sense of human drama that makes it all go…. I haven’t felt as buffeted by a book since Gibson’s Neuromancer—haven’t felt more like I was reading something truly radical, new, and exciting.”
—Cory Doctorow
“This extraordinary debut novel puts Marusek in the first rank of SF writers…. Exciting and wonderful.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Marusek keeps a deep and textured tale spinning along, filled with stresses, shocks, and sidelong looks at extrapolations of present-day trends.”
—The San Diego Union-Tribune
“Counting Heads is a compelling and powerful read. Marusek isn’t afraid of asking hard questions—nor is he afraid to try and find answers…. One of the best SF novels of this (and perhaps any) year, Counting Heads gives us a rich mix of social commentary, speculation, and adventure, all garnished with a tiny pinch of hope.”
—Vector
“Marusek has built a meticulously detailed world and populated it with vital, complex characters. Counting Heads is an impressive first novel, full of clever wordplay and bracing action.”
—San Francisco Chronicle
“David Marusek’s first novel is a wildly inventive story of a future dependent on clones and artificial intelligence…. Counting Heads is thick with invention and has an action-filled plot, but Marusek shines in filling it with well-rounded characters.”
—The Denver Post
“This exciting debut adventure poses interesting questions with a healthy dose of humor and derring-do. What happens when the technology of tomorrow becomes a reality?… Innovative plotting and realistic characterization combine to make a believable, captivating futuristic adventure.”
—Romantic Time BOOKreviews
“Incandescent! Compelling prose, enormous plot, fascinating characters—it takes over your mind like one of the story’s own transformative nano programs.”
—Kage Baker
“Marusek investigates his dark future with wild inventiveness and a rare completeness. Like one of those lush children’s books showing cut-aways of castles, steamships, and submarines, Counting Heads illuminates its complexities gracefully, and it’s a cracking good read as well.”
—Scott Westerfeld
“David Marusek is one of the most exciting writers to emerge in science fiction in the last decade.”
—Nancy Kress
“David Marusek’s long-awaited first novel is the science-fiction landmark we all expected it to be. He writes with power and authority and great visionary force.”
—Robert Silverberg
My father, bless his sensibilities, sanitized books with a black marking pen before adding them to his library. He indelibly struck out all words of an offensive nature. I fear that this, my first novel, would not be permitted to join his library unmarked. Nevertheless, I dedicate it to his memory:
Henry Paul Marusak
Inventor
Contents
Part 1 1.1 1.2 1.3
Part 2 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.4 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 2.9 2.10 2.11 2.12 2.13 2.14 2.15 2.16 2.17 2.18 2.19 2.20 2.21 2.22 2.23 2.24 2.25 2.26 2.27 2.28 2.29
Part 3 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9 3.10 3.11 3.12 3.13
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
1.1
On March 30, 2092, the Department of Health and Human Services issued Eleanor and me a permit. The undersecretary of the Population Division called with the news and official congratulations. We were stunned by our good fortune. The undersecretary instructed us to contact the National Orphanage. There was a baby in a drawer in Jersey with our names on it. We were out of our minds with joy.
ELEANOR AND I had been together a year by then. We’d met at a reception in Higher Soho, which I attended in realbody. A friend said, “Sammy Harger, is that really you? What luck! There’s a woman here who wants to meet you.”
I told him thanks but no thanks. I wasn’t in the mood. Not even sure why I’d come. I was recovering from a weeklong stint of design work in my Chicago studio. In those days I was in the habit of bolting my studio door and immersing myself in the heady universe of packaging design. It was my true creative calling, and I could lose all sense of time, even forgetting to eat or sleep. Henry knew to hold my calls. Henry was my belt valet system and technical assistant, and he alone attended me. I could go three or four days at a time like that, or until my Muse surrendered up another award-winning design.
My latest bout had lasted a week but yielded nothing, not even a third-rate inspiration, and I was a little depressed as I leaned over the buffet table to fill my plate.