“At the eastern end of the Valles Marineris canyon is an immense basin called Eos. In a few centuries, it will be a sea, but in this day and age it is the most densely settled part of transhumanity’s heartland. At its core, on a mesa that will one day be an island, is our utmost city: Valles-New Shanghai. From a cluster of rust-frosted tin cans to a smoking brothel she grew, till the dome slid over her like the nictitating membrane over a snake’s eye. She is my broken lady, an aching demimonde held together by the glittering prosthetics of money and nanoglass. She is my love and my curse, my Chinese box, my thousand year egg, delicious and awful. There is nothing nothing—envisaged in the minds of either angels or demons you will not fnd under her fve domes and the frankincensed eaves of her souks.”
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