In which Daniel Waterhouse, fearless thinker and courageous Puritan, pursues knowledge in the company of the greatest minds of Baroque-era Europe -- in a chaotic world where reason wars with the bloody ambitions of the mighty, and where catastrophe, natural or otherwise, can alter the political landscape overnight. “Genius . . . You’ll wish it were longer.” - Time magazine “Neal Stephenson rewrites history―for the dark prince of hacker fiction, looking backward is another way of seeing the future.” - Wired “[QUICKSILVER] is a rare thing: a 1,000-page book that you don’t want to end. - San Antonio Express-News “[O]ften brilliant and occassionally astonishing ...[QUICKSILVER] has wit, ambition and ... moments of real genius.” - Book World “[A]n awe-inspiring book, stuffed with heart-stopping action scenes ... and a treasure trove of forgotten historical lore.” - Book “Dense, witty, erudite ... and gripping ... a far more impressive literary endeavor than most so-called “serious” fiction.” - Independent “An astonishing achievement.” - Sunday Telegraph “[QUICKSILVER] explores the philosophical concerns of today . . . through thrillingly clever, suspenseful and amusing plot twists.” - New York Times Book Review “Historical fiction driven by the history of ideas…rollicking good fun….Mr. Stephenson is a magnificent chronicler of the Information Age.” - Wall Street Journal “Sprawling, irreverent, and ultimately profound.” - Newsweek “A sprawling, engrossing tale.” - Seattle Times “Stephenson’s new machine is a wonderment to behold. A-” - Entertainment Weekly In which Daniel Waterhouse, fearless thinker and courageous Puritan, pursues knowledge in the company of the greatest minds of Baroque-era Europe -- in a chaotic world where reason wars with the bloody ambitions of the mighty, and where catastrophe, natural or otherwise, can alter the political landscape overnight. Neal Stephenson is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the novels Termination Shock, Fall; or, Dodge in Hell , The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. (with Nicole Galland), Seveneves , Reamde , Anathem , The System of the World , The Confusion , Quicksilver , Cryptonomicon , The Diamond Age , Snow Crash , Zodiac , and the groundbreaking nonfiction work In the Beginning . . .Was the Command Line . He lives in Seattle, Washington. Quicksilver The Baroque Cycle #1 By Neal Stephenson HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. Copyright ©2006 Neal Stephenson All right reserved. ISBN: 0060833165 Chapter One Boston Common October 12, 1713, 10:33:52 A.M. Enoch rounds the corner just as the executioner raises the noose above the woman's head. The crowd on the Common stop praying and sobbing for just as long as Jack Ketch stands there, elbows locked, for all the world like a carpenter heaving a ridge-beam into place. The rope clutches a disk of blue New England sky. The Puritans gaze at it and, to all appearances, think. Enoch the Red reins in his borrowed horse as it nears the edge of the crowd, and sees that the executioner's purpose is not to let them inspect his knotwork, but to give them all a narrow -- and, to a Puritan, tantalizing -- glimpse of the portal through which they all must pass one day. Boston's a dollop of hills in a spoon of marshes. The road up the spoon-handle is barred by a wall, with the usual gallows outside it, and victims, or parts of them, strung up or nailed to the city gates. Enoch has just come that way, and reckoned he had seen the last of such things -- that thenceforth it would all be churches and taverns. But the dead men outside the gate were common robbers, killed for earthly crimes. What is happening now on the Common is of a more Sacramental nature. The noose lies on the woman's gray head like a crown. The executioner pushes it down. Her head forces it open like an infant's dilating the birth canal. When it finds the widest part it drops suddenly onto her shoulders. Her knees pimple the front of her apron and her skirts telescope into the platform as she makes to collapse. The executioner hugs her with one arm, like a dancing-master, to keep her upright, and adjusts the knot while an official reads the death warrant. This is as bland as a lease. The crowd scratches and shuffles. There are none of the diversions of a London hanging: no catcalls, jugglers, or pickpockets. Down at the other end of the Common, a squadron of lobsterbacks drills and marches round the base of a hummock with a stone powder-house planted in its top. An Irish sergeant bellows -- bored but indignant -- in a voice that carries forever on the wind, like the smell of smoke. He's not come to watch witch-hangings, but now that Enoch's blundered into one it would be bad form to leave. There is a drum-roll, and then a sudden awkward silence. He judges it very far from the worst hanging he's ever seen -- no kicking or writhing, no breaking of ropes or unraveling of knots -- all in all, an unusually compete