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Rise of Endymion (Hyperion Cantos, Book 4) [Format Kindle]

Dan Simmons
4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)

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This conclusion of the Hyperion saga (Hyperion, Fall of Hyperion, and Endymion) finds Raul Endymion, Aenea, and M. Bettik still on the run from agents of both the Pax and the TechnoCore. But Aenea is reaching maturity, clearly growing into the messiah who will one day bring down the church and stop "the resurrection." One answer lies in Aenea's blood, which she shares with her followers through a ritual of communion; the blood allows anyone to travel through the Void Which Binds, but it cannot coexist with the cruciform that brings immortality. And although Aenea's gift makes her both a power and a danger, she is also a young woman, vulnerable to the forces allied against her.


"The Pope is dead! Long live the Pope!"

The cry reverberated in and around the Vatican courtyard of San Damaso where the body of Pope Julius XIV had just been discovered in his papal apartments.  The Holy Father had died in his sleep.  Within minutes the word spread through the mismatched cluster of buildings still referred to as the Vatican Palace, and then moved out through the Vatican State with the speed of a circuit fire in a pure-oxygen environment.  The rumor of the Pope's death burned through the Vatican's office complex, leaped through the crowded St. Anne's Gate to the Apostolic Palace and the adjacent Government Palace, found waiting ears among the faithful in the sacristy of St. Peter's Basilica to the point that the archbishop saying Mass actually turned to look over his shoulder at the unprecedented hiss and whispering of the congregation, and then moved out of the Basilica with the departing worshipers into the larger crowds of St. Peter's Square where eighty to a hundred thousand tourists and visiting Pax functionaries received the rumor like a critical mass of plutonium being slammed inward to full fission.

Once out through the main vehicle gate of the Arch of Bells, the news accelerated to the speed of electrons, then leaped to the speed of light, and finally hurtled out and away from the planet Pacem at Hawking-drive velocities thousands of times faster than light.  Closer, just beyond the ancient walls of the Vatican, phones and comlogs chimed throughout the hulking, sweating Castel Sant'Angelo where the offices of the Holy Office of the Inquisition were buried deep in the mountain of stone originally built to be Hadrian's mausoleum.  All that morning there was the rattle of beads and rustle of starched cassocks as Vatican functionaries rushed back to their offices to monitor their encrypted net lines and to wait for memos from above.  Personal communicators rang, chimed, and vibrated in the uniforms and implants of thousands of Pax administrators, military commanders, politicians, and Mercantilus officials.  Within thirty minutes of the discovery of the Pope's lifeless body, news organizations around the world of Pacem were cued to the story: they readied their robotic holocams, brought their full panoply of in-system relay sats on-line, sent their best human reporters to the Vatican press office, and waited.  In an interstellar society where the Church ruled all but absolutely, news awaited not only independent confirmation but official permission to exist.

Two hours and ten minutes after the discovery of Pope Julius XIV's body, the Church confirmed his death via an announcement through the office of the Vatican Secretary of State, Cardinal Lourdusamy.  Within seconds, the recorded announcement was tightcast to every radio and holovision on the teeming world of Pacem.  With its population of one and a half billion souls, all born-again Christians carrying the cruciform, most employed by the Vatican or the huge civilian, military, or mercantile bureaucracy of the Pax state, the planet Pacem paused to listen with some interest.  Even before the formal announcement, a dozen of the new archangel-class starships had left their orbital bases and translated across the small human sphere of the galaxy arm, their near-instantaneous drives instantly killing their crews but carrying their message of the Pope's death secure in computers and coded transponders for the sixty-some most important archdiocese worlds and star systems.  These archangel courier ships would carry a few of the voting cardinals back to Pacem in time for the election, but most of the electors would choose to remain on their homeworlds--foregoing death even with its sure promise of resurrection--sending instead their encrypted, interactive holo wafers with their eligo for the next Supreme Pontiff.

Another eighty-five Hawking-class Pax ships, mostly high-acceleration torchships, made ready to spin up to relativistic velocities and then into jump configurations, their voyage time to be measured in days to months, their relative time-debt ranging from weeks to years.  These ships would wait in Pacem space the fifteen to twenty standard days until the election of the new Pope and then bring the word to the 130-some less critical Pax systems where archbishops tended to billions more of the faithful.  Those archdiocese worlds, in turn, would be charged with sending the word of the Pope's death, resurrection, and reelection on to lesser systems, distant worlds, and to the myriad colonies in the Outback.  A final fleet of more than two hundred unmanned courier drones was taken out of storage at the huge Pax asteroid base in Pacem System, their message chips waiting only for the official announcement of Pope Julius's rebirth and reelection before being accelerated into Hawking space to carry the news to elements of the Pax Fleet engaged in patrol or combat with the Ousters along the so-called Great Wall defensive sphere far beyond the boundaries of Pax space.

Pope Julius had died eight times before.  The Pontiff's heart was weak, and he would allow no repair of it--either by surgery or nanoplasty.  It was his contention that a pope should live his natural life span and--upon his death--that a new pope should be elected.  The fact that this same Pope had been reelected eight times did not dissuade him from his opinion.  Even now, as Pope Julius's body was being readied for a formal evening of lying in state before being carried to the private resurrection chapel behind St. Peter's, cardinals and their surrogates were making preparations for the election.

The Sistine Chapel was closed to tourists and made ready for the voting that would occur in less than three weeks.  Ancient, canopied stalls were brought in for the eighty-three cardinals who would be present in the flesh while holographic projectors and interactive datumplane connections were set in place for the cardinals who would vote by proxy.  The table for the Scrutineers was set in front of the Chapel's high altar.  Small cards, needles, thread, a receptacle, a plate, linen cloths, and other objects were carefully placed on the table of the Scrutineers and then covered with a larger linen cloth.  The table for the Infirmarii and the Revisors was set to one side of the altar.  The main doors of the Sistine Chapel were closed, bolted, and sealed.  Swiss Guard commandos in full battle armor and state-of-the-art energy weapons took their place outside the Chapel doors and at the blastproof portals of St.  Peter's papal resurrection annex.

Following ancient protocol, the election was scheduled to occur in no fewer than fifteen days and no more than twenty.  Those cardinals who made their permanent home on Pacem or within three weeks' time-debt travel canceled their regular agendas and prepared for the enclave.  Everything else was in readiness.

Some fat men carry their weight like a weakness, a sign of self-indulgence and sloth.  Other fat men absorb mass regally, an outward sign of their growing power.  Simon Augustino Cardinal Lourdusamy was of the latter category.  A huge man, a veritable mountain of scarlet in his formal cardinal robes, Lourdusamy looked to be in his late fifties, standard, and had appeared thus for more than two centuries of active life and successful resurrection.  Jowled, quite bald, and given to speaking in a soft bass rumble that could rise to a God-roar capable of filling St. Peter's Basilica without the use of a speaker system, Lourdusamy remained the epitome of health and vitality in the Vatican.  Many in the inner circles of the Church's hierarchy credited Lourdusamy--then a young, minor functionary in the Vatican diplomatic machine--with guiding the anguished and pain-ridden ex-Hyperion pilgrim, Father Lenar Hoyt, to finding the secret that tamed the cruciform to an instrument of resurrection.  They credited him as much as the newly deceased Pope with bringing the Church back from the brink of extinction.

Whatever the truth of that legend, Lourdusamy was in fine form this first day after the Holy Father's ninth death in office and five days before His Holiness's resurrection.  As Cardinal-Secretary of State, president of the committee overseeing the twelve Sacred Congregations, and prefect of that most feared and misunderstood of those agencies--the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, now officially known once again after more than a thousand-year interregnum as the Holy Office of the Universal Inquisition--Lourdusamy was the most powerful human being in the Curia.  At that moment, with His Holiness, Pope Julius XIV, lying in state in St.  Peter's Basilica, the body awaiting removal to the resurrection annex as soon as night should fall, Simon Augustino Cardinal Lourdusamy was arguably the most powerful human being in the galaxy.

The fact was not lost on the Cardinal that morning.

"Are they here yet, Lucas?" he rumbled at the man who had been his aide and factotum for more than two hundred busy years.  Monsignor Lucas Oddi was as thin, bony, aged-looking, and urgent in his movements as Cardinal Lourdusamy was huge, fleshy, ageless, and languid.  Oddi's full title as under-secretary of state for the Vatican was Substitute and Secretary of the Cypher, but he was usually known as the Substitute.  "Cypher" might have been an equally apt nickname for the tall, angular Benedictine administrator, for in the twenty-two decades of smooth service he had given his master, no one--not even Lourdusamy himself--knew the man's private opinions or emotions.  Father Lucas Oddi had been Lourdusamy's strong right arm for so long that the Secretary-Cardinal had long since ceased to think of him as anything but an extension of his own will.

"They have just been seated in the innermost waiting room," answered Monsignor Oddi.

Cardinal Lourdusamy nodded.  For more than a thousand years--since long before the Hegira that had sent humankind fleeing the dying Earth and colonizing the stars--it had been a custom of the Vatican to hold important meetings in the waiting rooms of important officials rather than in their private offices.  Secretary of State Cardinal Lourdusamy's innermost waiting room was small--no more than five meters square--and unadorned except for a round marble table with no inset com units, a single window that, if it had not been polarized to opaqueness, would have looked out onto a marvelously frescoed external loggia, and two paintings by the thirtieth-century genius Karo-tan--one showing Christ's agony in Gethsemane, the other showing Pope Julius (in his pre-papal identity of Father Lenar Hoyt) receiving the first cruciform from a powerful but androgynous-looking archangel while Satan (in the form of the Shrike) looked on powerlessly.

The four people in the waiting room--three men and a woman--represented the Executive Council of the Pancapitalist League of Independent Catholic Transstellar Trade Organizations, more commonly known as the Pax Mercantilus.  Two of the men might have been father and son--M.  Helvig Aron and M. Kennet Hay-Modhino--alike even to their subtle, expensive capesuits, expensive, conservative haircuts, subtly bio-sculpted Old Earth Northeuro features, and to the even-more-subtle red pins showing their membership in the Sovereign Military Order of the Hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes, and of Malta--the ancient society popularly known as the Knights of Malta.  The third man was of Asian descent and wore a simple cotton robe.  His name was Kenzo Isozaki and he was this day--after Simon Augustino Cardinal Lourdusamy--arguably the second most powerful human in the Pax.  The final Pax Mercantilus representative, a woman in her fifties, standard, with carelessly cropped dark hair and a pinched face, wearing an inexpensive work suit of combed fiberplastic, was M. Anna Pelli Cognani, reputedly Isozaki's heir apparent and rumored for years to be the lover of the female Archbishop of Renaissance Vector.

The four rose and bowed slightly as Cardinal Lourdusamy entered and took his place at the table.  Monsignor Lucas Oddi was the only bystander and he stood away from the table, his bony hands clasped in front of his cassock, the tortured eyes of Karo-tan's Christ in Gethsemane peering over his black-frocked shoulder at the small assembly.

M.'s Aron and Hay-Modhino moved forward to genuflect and kiss the Cardinal's beveled sapphire ring, but Lourdusamy waved away further protocol before Kenzo Isozaki or the woman could approach.  When the four Pax Mercantilus representatives were seated once again, the Cardinal said, "We are all old friends.  You know that while I represent the Holy See in this discussion during the Holy Father's temporary absence, any and all things discussed this day shall remain within these walls." Lourdusamy smiled.  "And these walls, my friends, are the most secure and bugproof in the Pax."

Aron and Hay-Modhino smiled tightly.  M. Isozaki's pleasant expression did not change.  M. Anna Pelli Cognani's frown deepened.  "Your Eminence," she said.  "May I speak freely?"

Lourdusamy extended a pudgy palm.  He had always distrusted people who asked to speak freely or who vowed to speak candidly or who used the expression "frankly."  He said, "Of course, my dear friend.  I regret that the pressing circumstances of the day allow us so little time."

Anna Pelli Cognani nodded tersely.  She had understood the command to be precise.  "Your Eminence," she said, "we asked for this conference so that we could speak to you not only as loyal members of His Holiness's Pancapitalist League, but as friends of the Holy See and of yourself."

Lourdusamy nodded affably.  His thin lips between the jowls were curled in a slight smile.  "Of course."

M. Helvig Aron cleared his throat.  "Your Eminence, the Mercantilus has an understandable interest in the coming papal election."

The Cardinal waited.

"Our goal today," continued M.  Hay-Modhino, "is to reassure Your Eminence--both as Secretary of State and as a potential candidate for the papacy--that the League will continue to carry out the Vatican's policy with the utmost loyalty after the coming election."

Cardinal Lourdusamy nodded ever so slightly.  He understood perfectly.  Somehow the Pax Mercantilus--Isozaki's intelligence network--had sniffed out a possible insurrection in the Vatican hierarchy.  Somehow they had overheard the most silent of whispers in whisperproof rooms such as this: that it had come time to replace Pope Julius with a new pontiff.  And Isozaki knew that Simon Augustino Lourdusamy would be that man.


Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 3964 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 722 pages
  • Editeur : Spectra; Édition : 1st (12 janvier 2011)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B004G60EKK
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
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  • Word Wise: Activé
  • Composition améliorée: Activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.5 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (2 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°47.801 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Dan Simmons, né en 1948 dans l'Illinois, aux États-Unis, a eu très jeune la vocation de l'écriture. Diplômé de littérature, il a été enseignant pendant plus de quinze ans.
En 1982, Dan Simmons a fait des débuts très remarqués en littérature. Fasciné par la transcendance du mal et l'horreur de la souffrance, il est souvent présenté comme un spécialiste de la terreur. C'est pourtant la science-fiction qui lui a inspiré son chef-d'œuvre, Les cantos d'Hypérion (Hypérion en 1989 et La chute d'Hypérion en 1990), un grand cycle cosmogonique habité par les ombres de Keats et de Dante, qui se poursuit avec deux autres volets, Endymion (1996) et L'éveil d'Endymion (1997).
Il revient aujourd'hui à la science-fiction avec un diptyque magistral inspiré de l'Iliade, Ilium et Olympos.

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3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 le meilleur de la sf 27 mars 2002
On termine la saga Hypérion/Endymion avec un immense plaisir et le petit pincement au coeur quand on quitte les personnages que Simmons a su nous rendre si familiers. Les 4 livres de la saga sont un vrai bonheur et le monde imaginé par l'auteur est probablement un des touts meilleurs que la SF nous a offerts. Une saga à ne pas manquer, et à relire....
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2 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Suite et Fin 25 septembre 2000
Dernier volume achevant la saga Hypérion. Aussi prenant que les autres.
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Amazon.com: 4.2 étoiles sur 5  436 commentaires
141 internautes sur 161 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Literate Science Fiction 3 novembre 2003
Par James D. DeWitt - Publié sur Amazon.com
Start with an appreciation of what Simmons is trying to do in this fourth book in the Hyperion Cantos:
- He is finishing the story of a messiah-like heroine who has known from the day she was born the exact, gruesome manner, date and time of her death.
- He is using - with full credit - the ideas of Tielhard de Chardin and John Keats and others, ideas and even writers of whom the majority of his readers are mostly unaware.
- He is advocating the powers of humanity, and especially the power of love, over the powers of technology. In a science fiction novel.
- He has chosen as one theme crucifixion: individual's crucifixion by the Shrike, humanity's crucifixion by the cruciform parasite, and Aenea's horrifying death. Crucifixion is at the heart of the West's most prominent religion.
- Like any writer of a series, he is constrained by the myriad loose ends from the three earlier books.
Simmons meets all of these challenges. He writes a suspenseful, emotionally engaging novel that takes all of these ideas and constraints and deals with them fairly, consistently and pretty completely.
Not many writers have the wit and courage to attempt these ideas; only a fraction of those who have the wit and courage also have the talent to bring it off. Simmons not only makes the attempt; he mostly succeeds.
The criticisms and negative reviews, it seems to me, stem from those who don't understand this is a novel of ideas, and those who give little credit to the breadth of what Simmons is trying to do. Aenea's final months and messy death is nothing less than a technologically rationalized replay of Christ's, recast and rethought in very impressive ways. Raul's rebirth is Saul's re-birth, isn't it?
No, this isn't a sword and fur jockstrap story, or yet another "coming of age with a light saber" Hero's journey. This is a book that welcomes and rewards a thinking reader. I wish there were more examples in the genre.
Well conceived, brilliantly written. Highly recommended.
59 internautes sur 66 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Breathtaking... 7 octobre 2006
Par W. Critchlow - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Have you ever experienced something so beautiful that you cried because of it? Read some novel that you became so immersed in that, after completing it, you felt lonely, even among friends, because you missed the characters so much? That experience was this story for me. I know a lot of people saw this as a story, a fictitious novel, but I saw it as something so much more. As a novel, it has its flaws (I suppose, upon reading other reviews on this site, although they were completely irrelevant for me) but as a STORY and a moving experience, it is nearly unparalleled. If you've read the Hyperion books and haven't read this (and its predecessor) then you absolutely must. If you haven't read the Hyperion books (which are masterpieces in their own right) then you must. These last two installments might not be as well-written (I still think they are) but they are absolutely breathtaking in their profound insight as to the importance of Love in the universe and how completely it can be felt and experienced. If you don't fall in love with Aenea during the reading of this story, then you musn't truly grasp the soul of it. This four-book series may be one of the most moving, heartfelt, well-written compilations that I've ever come across.
60 internautes sur 69 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Heart rending and Powerful 24 octobre 2000
Par Kenneth James Michael MacLean - Publié sur Amazon.com
This is one of the most powerful books I have ever read. It seems silly to say that about an SF novel -- but this book has affected me like only one other -- Dr. Zhivago by Boris Pasternak. I cried my way through the last 50 pages and after I put it down I couldn't sleep for hours. Mr Simmons' writing is so powerful, so poignant that the characters of Raul and Aenea have been burned into my literary memory forever. A teacher of mine once said that any book -- and life itself -- can be experienced at many levels of consciousness. The author has managed to encapsulate all of the incredible sadness, joy and beauty of being human into this book. The last 200 pages or so (from Chapter 25) is a prediction of where we are headed as a species, I believe, an expanded consciousness where every human is in effortless contact with every other. Mr. Simmons weaves a possible future based on the inherent power of LIFE -- not technology. He has conceived of a future -- correctly I believe -- where beings understand and use their true power. His handling of time is just brilliant and the ending is so poignant that I still get a lump in my throat thinking about it. One of the reviewers of this book said that it was predictable in some spots -- and I agree, having guessed the ending a few hundred pages from the end -- but it is a tribute to Dan Simmons that it made no difference. I was tugged along by the power of the story and I forgot all about my guesswork until the last sentence. I am sure that most people will find this review an over-reaction -- but I am understating the full range of my emotions as I write this. If any of you who read this have been so powerfully affected by this book and would like to share your thoughts, please e-mail me at kmaclean@ic.net.
12 internautes sur 12 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Triumphant conclusion to an amazing series 31 mai 2008
Par C. E. Stevens - Publié sur Amazon.com
Note that I did not say *perfect* conclusion--there were several elements that did not work well for me. Let me get those out of the way first:

- I agree with the complaints that Aenea's "teaching phase" on T'ien Shan is unnecessarily drawn out and a bit hokey: I had unpleasant flashbacks to Card's post-"Enders Game" trilogy, which I felt weakened precipitously as the series went on. Ever since "the Force", SF writers seem compelled to invent pseudo-religions that are vaguely Buddhist/Daoist in theme. What made it especially unnecessary in this case was the fact that it took away from the focus on love as a (the?) powerful force in the universe, and Aenea's subtly profound challenge: CHOOSE AGAIN. We live lives that are driven so much by inertia, path dependence, social mores, individual desires ... to stop and just choose again requires an amazing amount of introspection, persistence, and courage if followed completely. Some might argue that Simmons needed to have Aenea progress through all the pseudo-religion to get to that point ... but I'm not sure it was all necessary. But again, the end result was worth it.
- Just on a personal level, while the ability to look in on others' lives is described in fairly utopian terms, I found the idea rather frightening in an Orwellian kind of way. I have no problem with the idea of a more strongly collective Humanity, but the trade-off with individual freedoms and privacies needs to be weighed carefully.
- For me at least, the "secret" of Aenea's missing time was painfully obvious. This entire series has been about the fluidity of time and the juxtaposition of future, past, and present ... so it wasn't much of a surprise to see how the "missing time" was spent. But you know what--it didn't make it any less poignant, especially given the sacrifice that has been made in one character's past, the other character's future.

And in the end, that was what mattered--at the end of the series, I was left with a smile on my face because the positives of this book and the entire Cantos more than made up for its flaws. This series' warts made it seem all the more perfect for its imperfections.

I have seen the repeated criticism that the Shrike becomes a deus ex machina, but I see it more of "yang" to the Core/Nemes' "yin". Note that at The Moment this series builds to--the time when a "deus ex machina" would be most greatly needed if ever there was one--Aenea is completely alone in her suffering. Her sacrifice is beautiful because it is completely avoidable, and yet completely inevitable. Simmons' re-telling of the crucifixion is intelligent, brutal, poignant, and extremely effective. I disagree with the claims that this portion of the book devolves into "magic" as the scientific workings of Aenea's Communion and Crucifixion are laid out well in advance, and Sol's philosophical musings in the Hyperion books set up the logic for the Endymion books' evolution of mankind toward a more "godlike" state.

The Hyperion Cantos appealed to the head and to the heart, and each book added much to the tale. Having completed the series, I look forward to going back at some point in the future and re-reading the stories with the insight gained from seeing how all the details and characters ended up fitting together. It is clear that different people have different opinions on the series: some believe it was all downhill after "Hyperion", others (like me) think this was one of the best SF series ever written. I invite newcomers to the series to find out for themselves which camp they fall into--I think it is an experience that will not be regretted!
11 internautes sur 12 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
2.0 étoiles sur 5 Too much padding, too many problems. 19 janvier 1999
Par Anonymous - Publié sur Amazon.com
I, too, loved Hyperion and (to a lesser extent) The Fall of Hyperion. In comparison, the Endymion books are sad. Where the first books offered just about everything good science fiction can--mindbending situations, intricate world building, colorful characters, and thrilling adventure--the Endymion books substitute page upon page of padding, mundane chase plots with literally dozens of deus ex machinas, and gobs of unconvincing exposition to tie things up neatly at the end. There are also many sloppy plot points--like why does Aenea need to hanglide (for 50 pages!) to the far mountain if she can farcast anywhere.
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