CHAPTER 1
Copyright
Copyright © 2004 by Liz Williams
All rights reserved.
Bibliographical Note
This Dover edition, first published in 2020, is an unabridged republication of the work originally printed by Bantam Books, New York, in 2004.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Williams, Liz, 1965– author.
Title: Banner of souls / Liz Williams.
Description: First edition. | Mineola, New York : Dover Publications, Inc., 2020. | Originally published, 2004. | Summary: “Banner of Souls is about a future running on a new technology called “haunt-tech,” which draws energy from the realm of the dead. Reproduction has been industrialized. The remaining men, known as “men-remnants,” are being hunted down by female Martian warriors. Martian warrior, Dreams-of-War, is dispatched to a far-future Earth, now flooded, to protect a young girl named Lunae”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019058967 | ISBN 9780486843407 (trade paperback) | ISBN 0486843408 (trade paperback)
Subjects: GSAFD: Science fiction.
Classification: LCC PR6073.I43228 B36 2020 | DDC 823/.914—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019058967
Manufactured in the United States by LSC Communications
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2020
For Peter Garratt
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With thanks to . . .
•my editor, Anne Groell;
•my agent, Shawna McCarthy;
•everyone in the Montpellier Writing group and the Cantonese Writing group;
•everyone at Milford;
•Tanith Lee, for all her support;
•Mark Roberts, for the shark monkey; and
•Jay Caselberg, for the pangolin and much else besides.
THE GHOST HERD
CHAPTER 1
MARS
Dreams-of-War was hunting the remnants of men on the slopes of the Martian Olympus when she came across the herd of ghosts. The armor bristled at the approach of the herd, whispering caution into her ear, and at first Dreams-of-War thought that it was warning her against the presence of men—hyenae, perhaps, or vulpen, or others of the Changed. She wheeled around, activating the hand-spines of the armor, but there was nothing there. The cold, tawny slopes rolled into the distance, empty of everything except scrub and the sparse desert life that congregated around the canals and sinks. Far on the horizon, the column of Memnos Tower pointed upward, just visible now against a darkening sky. Dreams-of-War frowned. The armor remained alert, porcupine spikes forming and reforming as she moved.
“What?” Dreams-of-War said aloud, impatiently.
“There is someone here,” the armor said. Sometimes it spoke with the voice of the warrior who had first imprinted it, but sometimes the voice sounded more akin to that of Dreams-of-War herself.
