Civilization rests on the backs of its outcasts.
So when civilization needs someone to run generating stations three kilometers below the surface of the Pacific, it seeks out a special sort of person for its Rifters program. It recruits those whose histories have preadapted them to dangerous environments, people so used to broken bodies and chronic stress that life on the edge of an undersea volcano would actually be a step up. Nobody worries too much about job satisfaction; if you haven't spent a lifetime learning the futility of fighting back, you wouldn't be a rifter in the first place. It's a small price to keep the lights going, back on shore.
But there are things among the cliffs and trenches of the Juan de Fuca Ridge that no one expected to find, and enough pressure can forge the most obedient career-victim into something made of iron. At first, not even the rifters know what they have in them--and by the time anyone else finds out, the outcast and the downtrodden have their hands on a kill switch for the whole damn planet... Peter Watts lives in Toronto, Ontario.
A "New York Times" Notable Book of the Year
Civilization rests on the backs of its outcasts. So when civilization needs someone to run generating stations three kilometers below the surface of the Pacific, it seeks out a special sort of person for its Rifters program. It recruits those whose histories have preadapted them to dangerous environments, people so used to broken bodies and chronic stress that life on the edge of an undersea volcano would actually be a step up. Nobody worries too much about job satisfaction; if you haven't spent a lifetime learning the futility of fighting back, you wouldn't be a rifter in the first place. It's a small price to keep the lights going, back on shore.
But there are things among the cliffs and trenches of the Juan de Fuca Ridge that no one expected to find, and enough pressure can forge the most obedient career-victim into something made of iron. At first, not even the rifters know what they have in them--and by the time anyone else finds out, the outcast and the downtrodden have their hands on a kill switch for the whole damn planet.
"No one has taken this premise to such pitiless lengths--and depths--as Watts . . . In a claustrophobic setting enlivened by periodic flashes of beauty and terror, the crew of Beebe Station come across as not only believable but likeable as they fight for equilibrium against their own demons, one another, their superiors and their remorselessly hostile surroundings."--"The New York Times"
"A powerful first novel . . . A savage, bitter, and often blackly comic vision of the near future . . . Watts has rendered a character whose emotional complexity demands our respect. . . . The ending] is both startling and oddly satisfying in its earned nihilism. A terrific debut from an author we will be seeing again."--"Edmonton Journal"
"Watts' true enemy is human stupidity, the sort of thing that turns children into walking disaster zones, treats adults as interchangeable things, insists that unchecked fertility is a Good Thing, and blindly trusts that our artificially intelligent creations must share our priorities. As Watts develops that point, he tells an absorbing tale set in a bizarre world and hinging upon intriguing technology. He's done his homework well, and it shows."--"Analog"
"Burdened by exploding population, the world turns to geothermal energy from vents thousands of feet under the ocean. The vents are explosive and unpredictable, sending bursts of superheated steam randomly into a nightmare world of transparent fish, 50-foot tube worms, and oddly fragile sea monsters whose teeth shatter when they bite. To survive at such depths, the crews of deep-sea power plants must be modified to withstand the pressure, 'breathe' water, and see in a darkness illuminated only by phosphorescent creatures. The necessary mental modification isn't easily done; indeed, only the already emotionally damaged--battered women, paranoid ex-spies, child molesters--won't turn psychotic from it. One crew's members struggle among themselves at first, but soon discover strange satisfaction in their isolated world and insight into their troubled lives. A subtle paranoia is everywhere, however, from the cramped station quarters to the office of the corporate psychiatrist who selected the crew. The hidden threat behind this unease isn't revealed until nearly the end, but the dark universe of the sea bottom and rich characterization captivate to the last page. Watts makes a brilliant debut with a novel that is part undersea adventure, part psychological thriller, and wholly original."--Roberta Johnson, "Booklist"
"Near/medium-future deep-sea endeavor, from a Toronto-resident newcomer. To tap the energy of ocean-floor hydrothermal vents, the powerful Grid Authority sets up a power station in the Juan de Fuca Rift west of Seattle. Humans, physically modified to be able to live and work underwater without the restrictions of diving equipment, will maintain the facility. Of these volunteers (sex criminals, psychopaths, wife-beaters, and child molesters: their alternative is brainwashing), some can't adapt to the crushing, claustrophobic environment. Others brim with suppressed violence. Gerry Fischer takes to eating the local wildlife and never returns to the station. Lenie Clarke suspects that all the members of the group have been deliberately mentally damaged so they won't want to leave. But the Rifters develop a telepathic awareness of each other's thoughts and feelings. On the surface, meanwhile, smart gels--jelly-like intelligent neural networks--run most of the equipment and are slated to replace the Rifters, who refuse to return to the surface. The Grid Authority learns that the Rifters, and all deep-water life-forms, harbor an archaic non-DNA microorganism, ehemoth, that would destroy all DNA-based life if it reached land. At the same time, Lenie
